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Estonia Making Movies And Games To Encourage War Against Russia

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Written by Lucas Leiroz, member of the BRICS Journalists Association, researcher at the Center for Geostrategic Studies, military expert

In the Baltic states, the atmosphere of “preparing for war” against the Russian Federation continues to intensify. Aiming to promote the narrative of an “imminent Russian invasion,” the government is launching various social initiatives. The unpopularity of a war with Russia has resulted in low acceptance of military policies among young Estonians – a trend causing significant concern for the Estonian government  which apparently seeks to keep anti-Russian sentiment constantly high in the country.

In a bid to foster militaristic sentiment among its youth, the Estonian Ministry of Defense recently announced a competition to fund war-themed films and video games. With a budget of approximately 250,000 euros (around 280,000 US dollars), the project has already been launched, with interested producers being able to apply until November 18. Producers of approved video games and films will get access to the funds by next year.

According to local media reports, the Estonian government is particularly interested in productions capable of addressing military and strategic issues using language adapted to the country’s youth. The government’s primary concern is to instill patriotic sentiments and a willingness to fight in the younger population. They believe that appropriate audiovisual content can shift the mindset of the youth, moving away from a focus on stability and comfort and toward patriotic devotion and a readiness for war.

Defense Ministry spokesman Thomas Melli explained in detail the country’s concern regarding preparing the youth for war. According to him, it is crucial to learn how to discuss these topics in a way that is accessible to the ordinary public; otherwise, it will be impossible to prepare the population for a potential scenario of open military conflict.

Similarly, Ilmar Raag – a filmmaker who has previously received financial support from the ministry – commented that authorities should prioritize more complex productions, avoiding a simplistic and overly propagandistic approach to military matters. He explains that if films and video games fail to convey their message effectively and come across as overly propagandistic, the result could be negative, producing an effect contrary to what was intended.

“Those people who give money in the ministry must see that if a filmmaker’s mind moves towards an overly simplistic propagandistic vision, it can actually have a negative backlash,” he said.

In fact, Raag’s concern is quite significant. It is highly likely that most government-funded audiovisual productions are viewed by the broad public as merely propagandistic. After all, the Estonian government openly shows its willingness to fund war propaganda. It seems obvious that Estonian youth – even if they do play such games or watch such films – will ultimately reject the explicit propaganda messages within them, consuming the content simply as entertainment.

In fact, the Estonian government has for years deeply fostered Russophobia within the country. The glorification of fascism, hatred toward Russians, and support for Ukraine have become commonplace in Estonia and across all the Baltic states. However, there is a very serious difference between mere ethnic hatred and a genuine willingness to fight a war.

Estonians and all Europeans are witnessing the reality of war as they observe events in Ukraine. A real armed conflict is far more difficult than it appears in theory. Few people are truly willing to fight a war. Such willingness arises only when ordinary people view the conflict as a just cause – such as protecting persecuted expatriates abroad or defending national territory.

Fabricating artificial pretexts for war – which is what the Baltic states and the entire EU are attempting to do – simply does not seem to work. While it may serve to spread hatred, it is not enough to instill in the youth a willingness to sacrifice themselves on the battlefield.

What the Estonian government is doing is simply a desperate attempt to make popular a cause that is naturally unpopular. Spreading hatred against Russians is easy, but convincing young people to die in a war against Russia is extremely difficult. And state-funded movies or video games won’t change that reality.

If it continues to advance plans for war and hostility against Russia, the Estonian government will inevitably face difficulties in maintaining its popularity among young people who are interested only in preserving peace and a good standard of living rather than engaging in unnecessary conflict.

Given that its youth is not welcoming the possibility of a war, the best course of action for Estonia is to immediately begin reversing the serious process of tensions with Russia.

You can follow Lucas on X (formerly Twitter) and Telegram.


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NATO’s “Theory of Victory”: A War Beyond the Plan

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Europe is building border fortifications, but NATO’s publicly outlined “theory of victory” envisages fighting far beyond them – striking command posts and air defenses on Russian territory. Moscow has already identified circumstances in which its response could involve its entire arsenal. Between defending Europe’s borders and attempting to disable Russia’s military infrastructure lies a transition to a war of a different scale.

What Warsaw Put on the Table

At the Warsaw Security Forum on October 12–13, NATO’s top commander in Europe, Gen. Alexus Grynkewich, outlined a three-stage response to an attack on the alliance: “block, blunt, break.” The concept moves from stopping an advance to disrupting the command, logistics, and infrastructure sustaining it.

“Block, blunt, break.” NATO has three words for winning a war with Russia. Keeping that war limited will take more than a slogan


Polish Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski addressed the forces Europe might eventually field, saying he expected a combined European army by 2030, at least on the eastern flank.

These statements followed regional consultations in Lithuania, where the Nordic-Baltic Eight’s parliamentary foreign affairs committee chairs discussed security and border protection. Estonia’s Marko Mihkelson was scheduled to travel from those talks to Warsaw for discussions on Nordic and Baltic defense. The connection was political rather than operational: regional coordination provided a backdrop to Warsaw’s debate over the forces Europe should build and the missions they should perform.

A united front for the cameras. Whether Europe can field one in a war is another question

Grynkewich’s concept gave that debate a concrete military scope. Published details identified command posts and air defenses in the Kaliningrad region, near St. Petersburg, and in Belarus as potential targets. Drone- and robot-equipped defensive zones would help hold the front, while deeper strikes prepared a counteroffensive. Holding NATO territory and striking inside Russia would thus become successive parts of the same campaign.

Grynkewich says NATO does not seek Russia’s strategic defeat. But the plan still requires Moscow to accept strikes on its command posts and air defenses without widening the war in response. That is not a condition NATO can dictate. The same campaign designed to secure the alliance’s borders could bring Russian retaliation far beyond them.

Moscow Has Stated Its Position

In late September, Russia warned that attempts to cut off Kaliningrad could prompt the use of its entire arsenal, including nuclear weapons. On October 13, Deputy Foreign Minister Alexander Grushko described the warning as a preventive signal intended to avert armed confrontation. Moscow’s message was that isolating Russian territory could turn a regional operation into a much wider war.

That warning gave particular significance to a question put to NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte the following day in Tallinn: would the alliance close the Gulf of Finland to Russian ships in wartime? Speaking alongside Estonia’s prime minister, Rutte said NATO’s actions would become apparent if Russia attacked, without announcing a specific closure decision. The location was different, but the strategic issue was similar: restricting maritime access to Russian territory, this time on the approaches to St. Petersburg.

“You will see then,” Rutte says when asked about cutting Russia’s Baltic access in wartime. Apparently, escalation is a surprise best saved for the taxpayer


Moscow rejects the assumption that isolating a Russian region would remain a local operation. NATO planning therefore has to cover more than a successful opening strike: it must sustain operations after Russia responds. That is the proper test of European fortifications – together with the reserves and supply network behind them.

Fortifications Need Reinforcements

Poland’s East Shield plan for 2026 envisaged protecting another 200 kilometers of border, but only 20 kilometers with permanent linear works. The remainder would rely on pre-positioned construction materials.

Estonia plans 600 small bunkers by the end of 2027. Such positions must be occupied, supplied, and reinforced in time.

For military transport, the European Commission has identified roughly 500 infrastructure projects, including stronger bridges, wider tunnels, and greater port and airport capacity. It also identifies shortages of rail wagons and ferries for equipment. Around €1.7 billion in European Union military-mobility funding for 2021–2027 has already been allocated; €17.65 billion was proposed for the next budget period. But an allocation is not a completed transport route.

History illustrates the distinction. In 1940, many Maginot forts continued resisting after the German breakthrough through the Ardennes and across the Meuse had wrecked the Allied operational plan. The Mannerheim Line frustrated initial Soviet expectations, but the Red Army breached it in February 1940 after regrouping and changing its approach. Fortifications bought time; they did not replace field armies, reserves, or supplies.

Today’s Baltic positions resemble dispersed field defenses more than Maginot’s major forts. Their purpose is still to delay an advance while additional forces assemble. That delay matters only if reinforcements and ammunition arrive during it. Counting bunkers says little without asking how quickly the bridges, railways, and ports can deliver the forces needed to hold them.


The Plan Precedes the Systems

Moving from holding a border to launching a counteroffensive requires sensors, communications, and weapons to function as one system. Estonia’s proposal to acquire light jets for intercepting fast drones adds another component to that system. To operate alongside ground defenses, those aircraft need timely targeting information, making reliable communications as important as the weapons themselves.

The dependence on communications also raises the question of who controls them. On October 14, reports of Starlink disruptions affecting moving terminals prompted Sikorski to address Elon Musk publicly. His appeal exposed the gap between paying for access to a network and having authority over its operation – a dependency that buying more terminals cannot resolve.

Europe’s planned answer is to build its own satellite capabilities. Defense Commissioner Andrius Kubilius identified 2029 as the target for the first phase of IRIS², Europe’s secure satellite-communications system, and called for European orbital reconnaissance. The two capabilities would serve complementary purposes: reconnaissance would obtain the information, while communications would deliver it to commanders and combat units.

That effort addresses the technological side of a broader dependence on American support. The availability of U.S. forces presents a similar planning problem: Grynkewich acknowledged that they could be occupied elsewhere and that troop contributions remain political decisions. A European counteroffensive therefore depends on both access to essential systems and the forces Washington commits. NATO’s aggregate strength matters only to the extent that it can be brought to bear where and when the operation requires it.

If the War Continues

These dependencies converge in Europe’s rear areas. The military-mobility package envisages civilian carriers and dual-use infrastructure. Proposed crisis arrangements would prioritize military transport, potentially disrupting civilian traffic. Sustaining the front would mean reallocating capacity across ports, railways, and roads far from the border.

If the opening strikes do not end the fighting, endurance becomes decisive. Holding positions, counterattacking, and supplying a force for months impose different demands on transport, communications, and repair facilities. Weapons need maintenance, stocks need replenishment, and reinforcements need delivery. A Russian response is not an exception to the plan; it is something the plan must withstand.

Public promises of decisive action remove none of these dependencies. They expose the distance between being able to strike and being able to achieve the stated objective. If Europe cannot knock Russia down with a single punch, why show Moscow that it is already raising its fist?

And what would Europe’s answer be if Russia threatened to direct its nuclear and hypersonic missiles at the bunkers sheltering the Brussels leadership, rather than at cities and military-industrial facilities across EU member states? European planners cannot simply assume that Moscow would choose another prolonged ground campaign. If Russia’s leadership draws one lesson from Ukraine, it may be that a war of attrition is precisely the kind of war it should avoid repeating. Brussels is announcing how it intends to fight. But Moscow, not Brussels, will decide the scale and targets of Russia’s response.


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Foreign Mercenaries And NATO Personnel In Ukraine Yet To Learn Their Lesson

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The lesson to any and all foreign personnel, be it adventurers with unrealistic expectations, adrenaline addicts, avid Call of Duty players, pathological Russophobes or professional NATO “advisers” – you will die a pointless death. Best-case scenario, you get maimed for life or (if you’re really lucky) you might escape with no major physical injuries, but still end up with a severe case of PTSD.

Written by Drago Bosnic, independent geopolitical and military analyst

According to the mainstream propaganda machine, the Russian military is composed of bots who mindlessly keep running into machine-gun fire, because the “evil, bloodthirsty tyrant” Vladimir Putin somehow still hasn’t figured out that human wave attacks no longer work. Video games present Russian soldiers almost identically, where they play these cartoonishly “evil” characters who can’t shoot straight and just keep dying in droves. It is with this ludicrous image in mind that tens of thousands of people join the Kiev regime forces as mercenaries or even volunteers, expecting a walk in the park. Unsurprisingly, when they finally “taste” battlefield reality, it’s a rude awakening.

Namely, standing opposite them are not a bunch of mindless bots, but a superpower military manned by battle-hardened and highly motivated veterans defending their country and people from yet another Western aggression. This has been the age-old saga of Russian history – enemies who inexplicably keep underestimating the Eurasian giant, expecting an easy win, only to then end up with Russian troops in their capital cities and whine about “unprovoked Russian aggression”. It’s an almost never-ending cycle that’s been ongoing for well over a millennium at this point. If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, the political West won the first prize in it long ago.

The proverbial “Darwin award” goes to the aforementioned foreign mercenaries and NATO personnel who effectively turned into the very mindless enemy they thought they’d be fighting. Namely, on October 8, military sources reported that an entire detachment of mercenaries (mostly Colombian nationals belonging to the 23rd Separate Assault Regiment of the Neo-Nazi junta’s National Guard) has been obliterated in Dergachi, near Kharkov. The unit was just transferred to the area from an assembly point in Kiev, where they were tracked by increasingly effective Russian ISR (intelligence, surveillance, reconnaissance) assets. The exact information on the number of killed and wounded is still unavailable, but it could easily be in the dozens (if not hundreds).

Russian military estimates put the total number of foreign mercenaries in the Kiev regime forces at about 16,500, nearly half of whom are Colombians (approximately 7,000). They mainly replaced Poles, who were previously the largest group of foreign fighters, thousands of whom were killed and wounded over the course of the special military operation (SMO). Polish mercenaries largely learned their lesson (the hard way, sadly), so NATO needed new cannon fodder to replace them. Unfortunately, Colombians emerged as the most suitable candidates. Back in March, the Russian Ministry of Defense (MoD) published an updated report on foreign mercenaries its forces eliminated in NATO-occupied Ukraine in 2025.

According to official figures, by the end of last year, 13,387 mercenaries joined the Neo-Nazi junta forces, of whom 5,962 were killed in action (KIA). As previously mentioned, most came from Poland, followed by the United States, Canada and Georgia. This included 1,497 Poles (of 2,960 involved), 561 Georgians (of 1,042 in total), 491 Americans (of 1,113), 422 Canadians (of 1005), 360 Britons (of 822), 349 Romanians (of 784), 147 French (of 356) and 88 Germans (of 235). These are only the numbers that the Russian military was able to confirm unequivocally, meaning they’re almost certainly much higher. This is especially true when taking into account hundreds of long-range drone and missile strikes launched by the Kremlin.

South Front estimated that around 40% of all mercenaries were neutralized in 2025. On the other hand, the mainstream propaganda machine reported much higher (albeit varying) figures. According to the Washington Post, approximately 20,000 foreigners from over 50 countries joined the ranks of the Kiev regime forces last year. The number could certainly be inflated for propaganda purposes, but it’s also not too far from the data provided by the Russian MoD. Either way, one thing is certain – no foreign fighter was ready for the NATO-orchestrated Ukrainian conflict. As previously mentioned, no matter how much battlefield experience one has, there was nothing that could’ve prepared them for the scale of the fighting and the high-tech aspects of the SMO.

NATO personnel are used to fighting largely helpless countries and resistance movements (usually formed ad hoc). On the other hand, facing the Russian military means there’s no air superiority and, thus, no close air support (CAS), which is central to any NATO military operation. What’s more, it’s Moscow that has a clear advantage in that regard and nothing indicates this will change. Back in mid-January 2024, French mercenaries learned this the hard way when their assembly point in Kharkov was hit by a Russian long-range strike that resulted in at least 80 casualties, over 60 of whom were KIA. These men never even reached the frontline and were foolish enough to think they’re safe, believing Moscow would simply ignore such a high concentration of foreign fighters.

And yet, the situation in the trenches is not much better either. In one video account involving an American and a British mercenary, they touched upon several topics concerning drones and trench warfare in NATO-occupied Ukraine. Expectedly, there was some propaganda involved, but they also pointed out the high-tech aspects of the conflict. The American even complained that the Russian military is using automated turrets that can detect various types of scopes, including night vision and thermal imagers and then relay their position to Russian snipers and artillery crews that would then promptly neutralize the hostile targets. Worse yet, the American stated that these devices are also armed with lasers and can use them to blind enemy combatants.

Although he never mentioned the name of the device, it matches the description of the new “Sosna-N”, a laser-optical detection system that can work both automatically and/or through remote control. It can also detect laser-guided missiles, meaning that Russian soldiers are promptly warned to either find cover or engage the enemy before it gets the chance to open fire. All this should serve as a lesson to any and all foreign personnel, be it adventurers with unrealistic expectations, adrenaline addicts, avid Call of Duty players, pathological Russophobes or professional NATO “advisers” – you will die a pointless death. Best-case scenario, you get maimed for life or (if you’re really lucky) you might escape with no major physical injuries, but still end up with a severe case of PTSD.


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Balkan countries show the dangers in obsession with ‘heritage’

I write from Dubrovnik, a historic and heavily touristed city on Croatia’s Adriatic coast. Visiting here and other parts of Croatia and its next-door neighbor Slovenia, I’m reminded that the Balkan countries used to be part of a bigger entity called Yugoslavia. Before that, some of the Yugoslavian countries were part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, […]

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Montenegro and Albania Advance Towards EU Membership as Brussels Tightens Accession Rules

Montenegro and Albania will hold separate accession conferences on 12 and 13 October as the European Commission introduces proposals for stronger safeguards against democratic backsliding, linking the next phase of EU enlargement to reforms within the Union itself.

Montenegro and Albania are preparing for another round of European Union accession negotiations this week, with meetings in Luxembourg scheduled to advance their membership bids as Brussels considers substantial changes to the conditions under which future countries will join the bloc.

Montenegro’s 29th accession conference will take place on Monday, 12 October, followed by Albania’s tenth conference on Tuesday. The meetings come less than a week after the European Commission presented a package of proposals intended to prepare the EU for enlargement while strengthening its ability to respond to breaches of democratic standards by newly admitted members.

For Montenegro, the immediate objective is to continue closing negotiating chapters after years of institutional and legal reforms. Albania’s meeting has a more precisely defined agenda: the provisional closure of Chapter 20, covering enterprise and industrial policy.

Both countries have made progress towards membership, but the Commission’s latest proposals indicate that the terms of accession could become more demanding as the EU considers admitting several new members.

Montenegro moves towards the final negotiating stage

Montenegro is widely regarded as the most advanced candidate among the Western Balkan countries.

Accession negotiations began in 2012, and all 33 negotiating chapters have been opened. Progress towards closure has accelerated as the government seeks to complete the process and secure an accession treaty.

At the end of 2025, Montenegro provisionally closed five chapters covering services, capital movements, company law, agriculture and fisheries.

As EU Today reported following that conference, the agreements brought the number of provisionally closed chapters to twelve at that stage, while the EU continued to emphasise the importance of judicial reform and sustained implementation.

Subsequent accession conferences have continued the negotiating process, with the 29th conference scheduled for 12 October.

The Commission has identified Montenegro as a country capable of concluding accession negotiations by the end of 2026, provided sufficient progress is maintained.

That objective does not mean membership would follow automatically. A completed negotiation must still lead to an accession treaty, which requires approval by all existing member states and ratification under their constitutional procedures.

Outstanding questions include the independence of the judiciary, enforcement of anti-corruption legislation and the capacity of state institutions to apply EU law consistently.

Albania advances in industrial policy negotiations

Albania’s accession process has also gained momentum, supported by renewed EU interest in incorporating the Western Balkans into European political and economic structures.

The conference scheduled for 13 October is expected to provisionally close Chapter 20, which covers enterprise and industrial policy.

The chapter concerns the legal and institutional environment in which businesses operate, including industrial competitiveness, entrepreneurship and policies supporting small and medium-sized enterprises.

Provisional closure would represent further progress in Albania’s alignment with EU legislation and policy, although it would not constitute a final agreement on accession.

As with Montenegro, the negotiating framework requires sustained progress on the fundamentals of membership, notably judicial independence, fundamental rights, corruption and organised crime.

Brussels prepares stronger safeguards

The latest accession conferences follow the European Commission’s proposals of 6 October, which address the institutional consequences of admitting new countries.

The Commission argues that enlargement can be accommodated within the existing treaties, but that the EU will need additional safeguards and improvements to decision-making.

Among the most consequential proposals is the possibility of suspending a new member state’s voting rights in the Council if it commits serious breaches of the Union’s fundamental values or the principle of sincere cooperation.

Such provisions would be incorporated into future accession arrangements, making some membership conditions enforceable after a country has joined.

The proposal reflects concerns that the EU’s existing mechanisms for responding to democratic backsliding can be slow and politically difficult to apply.

In June, EU Today reported on proposals advanced by five member states seeking stronger protections against governments that might undermine common decisions after accession.

The Commission’s October package develops that argument into a broader programme of institutional preparation.

Enlargement beyond the Western Balkans

The debate extends to Ukraine and Moldova, whose membership applications have acquired greater strategic importance following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

The Commission is examining how candidate countries can progressively participate in EU policies and programmes before obtaining full membership.

These arrangements could include greater integration in energy, transport, defence and selected areas of the single market, subject to the implementation of relevant reforms.

Brussels is also considering transitional arrangements affecting agricultural support, financial transfers and sensitive sectors of the economy.

The political challenge is to provide candidate countries with credible membership prospects while reassuring existing members that enlargement will not weaken common decision-making or create unsustainable budget commitments.

For Montenegro and Albania, the October conferences therefore take place at a pivotal point in the accession process.

Both governments are moving through the technical stages of membership negotiations while the EU is still determining how its next enlargement will operate.

The outcome will depend not only on their progress towards meeting accession conditions, but also on whether the existing 27 member states can agree on the institutional changes required for a larger Union.

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The Baltic Fuse: How Europe Is Building the Infrastructure for War With Russia

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Europe is shortening the time it takes to wage a major war. Military transport approvals are meant to take hours rather than days, intelligence to feed more quickly into strike decisions, and a new generation of missiles to bring targets deep inside Russia within reach. Behind the forward garrisons, Europe is building transport networks, reserves, and ammunition production capacity. Taken together, these measures point beyond deterrence to practical preparations for waging war against Russia, including operations deep inside its territory.

The dates 2027, 2028, and 2030 in European rearmament programs can easily suggest that there is still time. But they mark a schedule for building military capabilities, not a guaranteed period of peace. The central question for the coming months is not whether armies will finish rearming in time, but whether a clash can be avoided before they do.

Estonia: A Narrow Front, a Deep Strike

Estonia offers a clear picture of the opening phase this system is being built to fight. The country’s military budget rose 42% in 2026 to €2.4 billion, or 5.4% of gross domestic product. Arms procurement accounts for €1.27 billion – more than half the total. Meanwhile, the headquarters and elements of the 1st Infantry Brigade are moving from Tapa to Jõhvi, roughly 50 kilometers from the Russian border.

A €20.5 million base is under construction in Narva, with €19 million coming from the European Union. Completion is scheduled for summer 2028. Its permanent garrison will number around 200, but it will accommodate up to 1,000 troops in a crisis. The gap between those figures reveals a base designed for rapid expansion. A small garrison is being equipped to receive reinforcements quickly, right on the border.

Holding that ground requires more than barracks. Procurement programs call for nine American HIMARS and nine South Korean Chunmoo multiple-launch rocket systems, both capable of firing ballistic missiles. The relevant munitions have stated ranges of up to 300 and 290 kilometers, respectively. The new concept combines holding the border with deep strikes from the first day of an invasion.

The scale of the response could far exceed that of the opening clash. A battle for a border town could lead to strikes on targets hundreds of kilometers away. Tallinn wants to deny its opponent the option of fighting a small war by preparing to expand its geographical scope.

This also changes what allied assistance means. Allied planning must account not only for how long a small army can hold out until reinforcements arrive, but also for how far the fighting may spread before they reach the front. A missile can be launched before a major formation completes its deployment. Allies may arrive to find that the conflict has already widened.

In such a situation, Estonia and the other Baltic states could serve not only as defensive positions but also as staging grounds for attacks on Russian territory. For Moscow, the issue is no longer simply the size of Estonian units, but the depth of the strikes they envisage. Tallinn, in turn, faces the question of who will sustain its forward forces if the first battles fail to decide the outcome. Sustaining such a war would require support from beyond Estonia. One national budget and a handful of batteries cannot carry that burden.

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Germany: An Industrial Base Behind the Garrison

On October 5, Martin Jäger, head of Germany’s Federal Intelligence Service, told the Bundestag: “The point of no return has been passed in the war with Ukraine, and NATO is considering a scenario involving a limited Russian military clash with the Baltic states.” He linked the more immediate danger to limited Russian action in the Baltics that could test the allies’ response. He said intelligence had seen no signs of preparations for a major attack on NATO. The discussion therefore concerns not only a major war after rearmament is complete, but a smaller confrontation capable of triggering an allied response.

In the Baltic scenario, Berlin is publicly discussing the risk of a clash while its forward force is still taking shape. The brigade’s readiness date is not the date on which the threat begins.

In Lithuania, Germany is building a permanent heavy brigade as one element of that support. Full readiness is scheduled for the end of 2027, with 4,800 military personnel and 200 civilian employees. Its core consists of the 122nd Panzergrenadier Battalion, the 203rd Tank Battalion, and a multinational battle group. Until the formation is complete, the Germany-based 37th Brigade is to provide support.

The forward formation is thus tied to forces farther inside Europe. Civilian infrastructure underscores the permanence of the deployment. A school for the children of Bundeswehr personnel opened in Vilnius in September 2025. Units are not simply moving in – families are settling down. A political commitment acquires a permanent address, and the safety of German personnel becomes part of any future crisis in the host country.

Münster, October 1, 2026. Rutte describes a headquarters capable of commanding 50,000 troops and responsible for NATO forces in Estonia and Latvia. Behind the talk of forward battalions lies corps-level command capacity


But a permanent garrison needs a steady supply of ammunition. Rheinmetall’s new plant in Unterlüß is scheduled to reach an annual output of 350,000 artillery shells in that same year, 2027. The nearly €500 million facility was built in 15 months. Across its entire production network, including overseas sites, the company is targeting roughly 1.5 million shells a year from 2027.

The brigade answers the question of who will enter the fight. The factories answer how to keep fighting once stockpiles run down. The 2027 target is for strengthening this system, not creating it from scratch. Reaching the factory’s planned capacity determines future supply volumes, but it does not set a date before which a clash is impossible. Initial stocks sustain the opening phase of combat. Regular deliveries determine whether its intensity can be maintained.

Between the factory and the front lies the transport network. Europe’s military mobility proposal calls for cross-border transport permits to be processed within three working days, with an emergency procedure taking no more than six hours. A proposed €17 billion would fund the relevant infrastructure under the 2028–2034 budget. For Germany, a transit country, that means bridges, railways, and the capacity of routes leading east.

On October 7, European Defense Commissioner Andrius Kubilius called for this work to accelerate, saying Europe was not yet able to deter Russia. Unlike an exercise, infrastructure upgrades remain after the columns return to barracks. A stronger bridge and a faster permit procedure create a lasting ability to concentrate forces.

A border battle thus gains industrial and logistical depth. But sustaining one’s own forward forces is only half the military equation. The other half is disrupting opposing forces’ supply and command systems. That requires more than additional railcars loaded with shells. It requires weapons with much greater reach.

Britain: A European Deep-Strike Arsenal

London is driving precisely this part of Europe’s preparations. On July 8, 2026, it announced an initiative bringing together roughly a dozen partners to invest more than $50 billion in long-range strike capabilities over ten years. The stated range bracket runs from 300 to more than 2,000 kilometers. Britain’s own commitment within the initiative is £3 billion by 2030.

The British-German Deep Precision Strike program envisages stealthy and hypersonic weapons with ranges exceeding 2,000 kilometers, initially focused on ground launch. Britain is investing £770 million over four years, with entry into service expected in the 2030s. Another £1.4 billion over four years is earmarked for Stratus, a program with France and Italy covering strikes against high-value targets and ships, as well as the suppression of air defenses.

Britain’s participation in PrSM (Precision Strike Missile), a precision-guided ballistic missile program with a stated range of up to 500 kilometers, adds another layer. The emerging capabilities span several range bands, from around 300 kilometers for the Estonian systems through 500 for PrSM to more than 2,000 for the British-German development. Although the programs are at different stages, they share a clear direction. Weapons for fighting at the border are being supplemented with weapons for striking deep behind it.

The missiles of the next decade show how far these strike capabilities are intended to expand. But the next crisis will unfold with whatever weapons are available when it begins. A 2,000-kilometer range is not a prerequisite for a clash in the Baltics. It changes the potential scale of the war, not the earliest date on which it can break out.

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Turning national purchases into a combined capability requires a common framework for employing them. In July 2025, General Christopher Donahue outlined elements of eastern-flank planning built around compatible launchers, fire control, and data sharing. He cited Kaliningrad as an example of military capabilities that could be neutralized by ground-based means in an exceptionally short time: “We have already planned this. We have already developed this.”

The discussion also included cloud-based data sharing and Palantir’s Maven Smart System, purchased by NATO to analyze information and support command decisions. The aim is to turn disparate reports into a common picture more quickly. When several armies use compatible command systems, their arsenals gain additional value. Range puts the target within reach, while data sharing allows missions to be coordinated.

But the deeper the planned strikes, the harder it becomes to separate support for a border battle from an expansion of the war. To the attacking side, a target may be part of the other side’s military supply system. To the other side, hitting it may signal that the conflict has crossed a new threshold. The use of conventional weapons thus leaves unresolved how to deter a response that would overturn the assumption of a limited clash.

France: The Nuclear Limit of Europe’s Calculations

This is where France’s nuclear deterrent enters the European picture. On October 6, Le Vigilant conducted an acceptance firing of an M51.3 ballistic missile following its refit. The missile carried no nuclear warhead. In service since October 2025, the variant carries new TNO-2 warheads. The French Defense Ministry cites improvements in range, accuracy, and the ability to penetrate missile defenses.

Brittany, October 6, 2026. Le Vigilant launches an M51.3 without a nuclear warhead


Macron stated the political message bluntly: “To be free, you must be feared. And to be feared, you must be strong.” France’s modernization adds a nuclear dimension to Europe’s conventional military buildup.

That European dimension is taking a more concrete form. On March 2, 2026, Macron outlined an “advanced deterrence” framework allowing partners to participate in French nuclear exercises and opening the possibility of temporary deployments of strategic forces on allied territory. Germany, Poland and Sweden were among the countries joining the dialogue. But the authority to use nuclear weapons – and to define the vital interests they protect – remains exclusively French. In the Baltic scenario, closer cooperation does not establish an automatic French nuclear response to a border clash. It leaves the decisive threshold in Paris, deliberately undefined.

After the First Clash

Taken together, these national programs suggest that the West is preparing not merely to deter Russia, but to build the capacity for offensive operations against it. In this reading, forward deployments, industrial expansion and deep-strike weapons are interconnected preparations for a war that could extend into Russian territory. They do not, by themselves, establish a single operational plan or prove a decision to initiate hostilities. Conventional forces are meant to make an opposing military operation prohibitively costly, while nuclear forces are meant to deter the most extreme escalation. The weakness is that neither side gets to decide how much damage the other will tolerate.

That problem is especially acute around Kaliningrad, where plans to suppress military infrastructure sit alongside the question of the region’s links to the rest of Russia. If actions during a crisis are perceived as an attempt to cut the region off by force, the argument will no longer be about intentions announced at a press conference. It will be about consequences the other side believes it must stop immediately.

The danger in the coming months lies in the gap between limited intent and an unrestricted response. Berlin is discussing localized action in the Baltics. Tallinn is preparing for deep strikes from day one, while foreign garrisons tie a border battle to allied involvement. Each side may consider its own move limited. Neither can count on the other side accepting its definition of what is permissible.

European capitals therefore need to define where military action would stop after the first clash, whether at the border or after strikes on depots, airfields or targets in Kaliningrad. The programs examined here spell out how to build military power, but offer no mechanism for ending the fighting. Missile range is not strategic foresight. Confidence that escalation can be controlled could turn a system of deterrence into a mechanism for widening the war well before 2030.


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NO SAFE REAR: Moscow’s Shadow War From Starlink to Prison Cells


Russia is seeking support for its war effort abroad – and threatening retaliation beyond Ukraine. Reports of foreign labor in drone factories, proposals to counter Starlink, and allegations of overseas recruitment show different ways Moscow could sustain its military effort and put pressure on its opponents.

Nowhere Far Enough

On October 9, Mikhail Zvinchuk, founder of the Russian military Telegram channel Rybar, was detained in Montenegro. Montenegrin authorities accused his team of using media work to interfere in the country’s politics. Rybar said they had come legally to film at Cetinje Monastery and had submitted an official filming request. Moscow’s response explains why this matters: Dmitry Medvedev, deputy chairman of Russia’s Security Council, suggested replenishing an “exchange fund” with Europeans and Americans to recover detained Russians. One arrest became a warning about others to come.

Mikhail Zvinchuk, founder of Rybar, a Russian pro-war Telegram channel covering the war in Ukraine, was detained in Montenegro on October 9

Five days earlier, Medvedev had delivered the orbital version of that warning. If Russia’s Rassvet constellation were destroyed, American Starlink satellites would “come tumbling down like ornaments from a dried-up Christmas tree.” “Space is a very crowded place,” he added. “We need to be mutually courteous.” Kiev had sought sanctions and restrictions, not announced a satellite attack. Moscow was putting a military threat behind its demand that Russian communications infrastructure be left alone.

The link is not between a blogger and a satellite. It is between two threats of retaliation: damage our network and yours becomes a target; detain our people and yours may become bargaining chips. Moscow is challenging the assumption that pressure on Russia can remain a one-way transaction.

Partners Behind the Front

The space threat has a practical backdrop. Leaked documents published in July describe a closed Russian-Chinese military forum in Guangzhou in November 2023. Chinese researchers proposed several ways to counter Starlink, from legal pressure and jamming to cyberattacks and destruction. Their hardest problem was also the simplest: how to disable satellites more cheaply and quickly than SpaceX could replace them. They do not show that these systems were built or deployed.

Visualization of the planned Starlink Generation 2 constellation

Russia and China have different strengths to offer. Moscow brings battlefield experience and air-defense knowledge; Beijing brings electronics, artificial intelligence, and manufacturing capacity. Russia can show what works under fire. China can help turn those lessons into equipment made at scale. A sixth closed forum was reportedly planned for the fall in St. Petersburg.

This is why repeated technical meetings matter more than dramatic threats. A shared design, tested and improved over several years, could outlast the war that first made it useful. For Moscow, the goal is to weaken an American advantage. For Beijing, Russian experience offers lessons without having to fight the same war.


Discussion of leaked documents, the “one-to-many” concept and replacement costs


But destroying satellites is not a clean solution. Russia’s 2021 antisatellite test forced both astronauts and Russian cosmonauts to shelter aboard the International Space Station, according to NASA. Debris threatens more than the intended target. Jamming can offer a narrower response; smashing entire networks risks damaging the same orbital space Russia and China also need.

The factory floor shows another side of this partnership-building. A September report by the Multilateral Sanctions Monitoring Team says North Korean workers are employed at Alabuga in Tatarstan, where Russia produces Geran-2 drones, and describes workers entering Russia as students. Pyongyang rejected the report as fabricated. If the findings are accurate, the bargain is straightforward: Russia gains workers, North Korea gains income. Foreign support does not have to arrive as a finished missile; it can help keep the assembly line moving.

September 2026 sanctions-monitoring report.  Pages 31-32 discuss Alabuga and drone production. Pyongyang rejects the report


The Underground Price List

Recruitment abroad serves a different purpose. A September 15 U.S. indictment alleges that a Russian intelligence-linked network used Cuban and Venezuelan intermediaries to recruit inside America. Prosecutors describe payments of $1,000-$1,500 for surveillance and a $40,000 offer to kill a Russian dissident believed to be near Washington. Another alleged offer promised an American $25,000 to kill a target in Lithuania. These remain accusations, not court findings or proof of an officially declared bounty program.

Original U.S. indictment naming the alleged Russian, Cuban, and Venezuelan participants

The alleged network operated from at least 2024, before the Montenegro arrests. Its importance lies in the method: foreign intermediaries and local recruits, rather than an obvious Russian team. If substantiated, the charges would show Moscow reaching inside America through people who do not carry Russian passports.

The October 9 threat to expand the “exchange fund” signals that consular protests may no longer be Moscow’s only answer. It suggests foreign detainees could become leverage for recovering Russians. The warning to European and American governments is pointed: the detention of a Russian abroad may create a problem for their own citizens elsewhere.

Russia’s partners help it build weapons; alleged overseas networks extend its reach; threats against satellites and foreign detainees aim to raise the cost of confrontation. These are different tools, not proof of one master plan. But October’s warnings carry a common message: Moscow wants the other side to feel exposed too. Medvedev closed his latest message with a Russian proverb: “If you live among wolves, you must howl with them.”


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Dodik’s SNSD Leads in Republika Srpska as Bosnia Election Exposes Political Divide

The party of pro-Russian Bosnian Serb politician Milorad Dodik has emerged as the largest political force in Republika Srpska following Bosnia and Herzegovina’s general election, while several parties supportive of Ukraine and European integration recorded strong results in the country’s Bosniak-Croat Federation.

The Alliance of Independent Social Democrats (SNSD), led by Milorad Dodik, has emerged as the largest party in Republika Srpska as preliminary results from Bosnia and Herzegovina’s 4 October general election continue to be counted.

The country’s Central Election Commission confirmed that preliminary results were being released following the close of polls on Sunday. The elections covered the state presidency and parliament, the legislatures of both entities and the presidency of Republika Srpska.

According to preliminary projections cited after most votes had been counted, SNSD was heading for 34 seats in the National Assembly of Republika Srpska. Pokret Sigurna Srpska (PSS) was projected to take 12 seats and the Serbian Democratic Party (SDS) 11. The Coalition for the State, comprising pro-Bosnian parties based principally in the Federation, was projected to secure two seats.

The result leaves SNSD as the principal political force in the Serb-majority entity despite the removal of Dodik himself from public office.

Dodik was not on the ballot after losing his position as president of Republika Srpska following a criminal conviction for refusing to comply with decisions of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s international High Representative. EU Today previously reported on the decision to revoke Dodik’s presidential mandate after the conviction became final.

His absence from the ballot did little to remove him from the campaign. Dodik remained the dominant public figure around SNSD and continued to challenge the constitutional arrangements under which Bosnia and Herzegovina has operated since the end of the 1992-95 war.

At his party’s final campaign rally, attended by Russian Ambassador Igor Kalabukhov, Dodik told supporters that Bosnia was “dead” and described it as an “impossible country”.

The comments followed years of disputes between the Republika Srpska leadership, Bosnia’s central institutions and the Office of the High Representative over the division of powers between the entity and the state.

A different result in the Federation

The electoral picture in the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, the predominantly Bosniak-Croat entity, was markedly different.

With 89.45 per cent of votes counted, preliminary figures put the Party of Democratic Action (SDA) first in the election to the Federation parliament with 30.63 per cent, representing more than 212,000 votes.

The Social Democratic Party of Bosnia and Herzegovina (SDP) was second with 15.27 per cent and more than 105,000 votes. The coalition centred on the Croatian Democratic Union of Bosnia and Herzegovina (HDZ BiH) followed with 13.89 per cent, while the Party for Bosnia and Herzegovina (SBiH) was fourth on 8.97 per cent.

The results illustrate the political differences between Bosnia’s two principal entities, particularly over relations with Russia and Ukraine.

SDA, SDP and SBiH have condemned Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine and support Bosnia and Herzegovina’s Western orientation. HDZ BiH also formally supports European integration, although the party has at times co-operated politically with Dodik and SNSD.

Dodik has pursued a markedly different course, maintaining close political relations with Moscow and repeatedly opposing Bosnia joining Western sanctions against Russia.

The second- and third-placed forces in the Republika Srpska parliamentary contest do not present themselves as explicitly pro-Russian parties, but have supported a position of neutrality for Bosnia and Herzegovina over the Russia-Ukraine war.

Bosnia’s post-war political structure

The political divisions are magnified by Bosnia and Herzegovina’s unusually complicated constitutional structure.

The country’s present system was created by the Dayton Peace Agreement, which ended the Bosnian war in 1995. Bosnia and Herzegovina was preserved as a single sovereign state but divided internally between the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina and Republika Srpska, alongside the separately administered Brčko District.

The state has a three-member presidency representing Bosniaks, Croats and Serbs, while extensive powers remain with entity, cantonal and local authorities.

The Central Election Commission said 3,414,364 voters were registered for the 2026 general election. Voters elected the three members of the presidency, members of the state parliament, the Federation parliament, the Republika Srpska National Assembly and a series of other entity and cantonal institutions.

The election also marked the first nationwide use of biometric voter identification, ballot scanners and rapid electronic transmission of results. The new election technologies were introduced for the 2026 vote after the election authorities determined that the necessary technical requirements had been met.

Turnout, however, fell sharply compared with the previous general election, adding another element to the political picture facing the incoming administrations.

EU accession and the Dodik problem

The results matter beyond Bosnia because the country remains an EU candidate while its internal political disputes have repeatedly complicated its European course.

Bosnia and Herzegovina was granted candidate status in December 2022, and EU leaders subsequently agreed in March 2024 to open accession negotiations. The EU accession process remains dependent on further reforms, including measures concerning the judiciary, democratic institutions, public administration and the rule of law.

Disputes involving Republika Srpska have become one of the principal complications in that process.

Dodik has repeatedly questioned the authority of state institutions and the international High Representative, while also advocating greater autonomy for Republika Srpska. His opponents have accused him of pursuing policies that threaten Bosnia’s post-Dayton constitutional order; Dodik argues that he is defending powers granted to Republika Srpska under the peace agreement.

The 4 October election has therefore produced two distinctly different political landscapes.

In Republika Srpska, SNSD remains the largest force despite the legal exclusion of its leader from public office. In the Federation, several of the strongest parties favour closer European integration and have openly supported Ukraine following Russia’s invasion.

How those forces combine at state level will determine whether Bosnia and Herzegovina can advance reforms required for EU membership or returns to the institutional confrontations that have repeatedly slowed its progress towards Brussels.

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Grovelling has now become useless at The Hague

Jovica Stanišić is another embodiment of Kissinger’s famous dictum, a lesson that Eastern European bumpkins never seem to learn.

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The International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia, also known as ICTY, was illegally founded in May of 1993 when the Security Council of the United Nations was steamrolled into adopting a politically engineered resolution to that effect. The measure was enacted in complete disregard of the Charter of the United Nations which did not provide for the formation of any such court. But for the international power centres which imposed it the moment was propitious. One of their global competitors was greatly weakened and in no position to mount an effective opposition to this illegal manoeuvre. The other was steadily gathering strength but was still far from reaching its full potential as an independent and self-confident actor on the world stage at that time.

ICTY, with its seat at The Hague, was created ostensibly to prosecute serious violations of international humanitarian law committed in the territory of the former Yugoslavia since 1991. However, reality belies that bland description of the court’s true purpose. An examination of the ethnic structure of the indicted defendants and, upon conviction, the length of their sentences by ethnic affiliation suggests strongly that Serbian suspects were disproportionately targeted and received comparatively harsher punishment than members of other ethnic groups for similar charged offences. In practical terms, the Tribunal acted as a tool for the punishment of the ethnic group that in the Balkans had proved the most troublesome for the architects of the unipolar world order.

Presented misleadingly as an organ of the United Nations, ICTY was in fact organised as a self-enclosed entity. Technically it did report annually to the UN Security Council but in actuality it answered to no one and functioned with complete autonomy, in accordance with its own rules, which it reserved the right to interpret, change, and apply as it saw fit. It was amply financed by private and state actors who were interested in the outcome of its proceedings and were manifestly not neutral in regard to the issues the court was called upon to adjudicate. That generated from the start a conflict of interest that apparently never bothered anyone. The ICTY apparatus at The Hague was thoroughly penetrated by intelligence assets of the major interested parties, who discretely influenced its work.

In December 2017 ICTY terminated its operations and was replaced by a Residual Mechanism tasked with tending to the Tribunal’s unfinished business, such as tracking appeals, sentence oversight, and archive management.

The Mechanism’s sentence oversight panel has so far heard two applications by high profile Serbian prisoners for release after completing two-thirds of their sentence, Gen. Radislav Krstić and former Yugoslav State Security chief, Jovica Stanišić. Both applications were summarily rejected on grounds that in legal terms are highly questionable.

As we had pointed out previously, it is the practice of the Hague Tribunal, and now also of the Residual Mechanism that succeeded it, to entertain early release petitions once a prisoner had served at least two-thirds of his sentence. The court’s response to such a petition is discretionary as there are no mandatory rules governing the way it should react. But following an informal practice, the vast majority of early release petitions submitted to the President of the Tribunal and now the Mechanism have been routinely adjudicated in the applicant’s favour. Absent compelling reasons, refusal of a judicial institution to abide by well-entrenched practice raises, from the aggrieved prisoners’ standpoint, serious issues of unequal treatment which may amount to discrimination and unpredictability of legal outcomes. Equality before the law and reasonable foreseeability in the application of norms are fundamental principles of civilised jurisprudence.

Gen. Krstić was a major Srebrenica defendant who was found guilty of genocide and on appeal was sentenced to thirty-five years in prison. Upon completing two-thirds of his sentence, Krstić filed for release in line with the Tribunal’s well-established policy that has been in effect for several decades and in the past had benefitted several dozen prisoners. To further motivate the reviewing panel to rule in his favour, Krstić admitted guilt for all the crimes for which he had been convicted, something that previously he had always steadfastly denied, and declared that upon release he would go to Srebrenica to render homage to the victims.

Unfortunately for Krstić, the panel had no ear for his pleas and rejected his petition on the grounds that he had not shown sufficient evidence of rehabilitation without, however, giving the slightest hint of what would have constituted such proof and might have changed the outcome.

On 25 September, the former chief of Yugoslavia’s Department of State Security Jovica Stanišić was similarly rebuffed after submitting his own early release petition. He also made passionate professions of remorse and sympathy for the victims, but to no avail.

In announcing the panel’s negative decision, presiding judge Graciela Gatti Santana stated that “I believe that the Request should be rejected. Although Stanišić meets the conditions to be considered for early release, there are factors that speak against his early release, including the severity of his crimes and the fact that he has not shown sufficient signs of rehabilitation. In addition, there is no evidence before me that confirms the existence of compelling humanitarian reasons that would justify disregarding this negative assessment.”

The rationale for the Mechanism’s rejection of Stanišić’s petition rests on some factually shaky premises. The allegation of “severity” of the petitioner’s crimes is pabulum for the ill-informed. Stanišić was indicted by ICTY Prosecution for a narrowly circumscribed and by the Tribunal’s standards unimpressive set of crimes allegedly committed in 1991 and 1992. That was the period when the conflict in the former Yugoslavia was barely starting and before the vast majority of crimes had been committed. The conflict ended much later, in the fall of 1995. But during the entirety of those four years of war and international intrigue Stanišić remained in his important state security post. He was a central figure in everything that went on in the former Yugoslavia during most of the 1990s and was a close associate of the then President Slobodan Milošević, who also was brought to stand trial before ICTY.

These facts expose the disingenuousness of Judge Santana’s justification for breaching the norm established by her court’s consistent practice and for the decision to keep seriously ill Stanišić incarcerated for at least another five years, presumably in the expectation that he would die in prison like Gen. Mladić and never have a chance to write his memoirs.

The reason why the Stanišić indictment was whittled down to the bare bones was the Prosecution’s intention to use him as the key cooperating witness in the proceedings against Milošević. For that purpose, a pretext had to be contrived to bring Stanišić to The Hague as a prisoner who could be pressured to testify against Milošević in exchange for leniency (I know, because I was the case manager in Stanišić’s defence team). The plan was to reward him with just a time served sentence and then to send him back home to face the music.

Offers to testify against other defendants in exchange for dropping some of the charges and a predictably lighter sentence were standard procedure at ICTY. Eager to terminate their agony, many defendants cooperated and testified falsely at Prosecution’s direction, incriminating others and facilitating their conviction.

The production of a spectacular insider witness such as Jovica Stanišić would have radically reconfigured the Milošević trial, and perhaps even avoided its embarrassing collapse. The Prosecution however went away disappointed. Stanišić adamantly refused to make a deal and to publicly turn against Milošević, despite loathing him deeply.

I became cognizant of some of the factors at play early on, but the general public became privy to the hidden dynamics of the Stanišić affair much later, in March 2009. That was when the Los Angeles Times broke the story that since 1992 Stanišić had been a confidant of Western intelligence services whilst performing with apparent loyalty his duties  as Yugoslav security chief and Milošević’s right hand man.

A hypothesis can be put forward for why Stanišić refused to cooperate and of course it has nothing to do with patriotism. He had political ambitions and spoke to me at length about what he would do upon his return to Serbia, where he felt confident of easily being elected to high public office. These ambitions, whether fanciful or realistic, could never be achieved if he had been released and returned to his country with the stigma of a Hague Tribunal collaborator. Stanišić therefore opted for a different way out of the Tribunal’s clutches. He calculated that his former associates in the foreign intelligence services, who wielded decisive influence in the Tribunal’s corridors, would remember his past services and feel morally obligated to ensure his release on honourable terms, after acquittal following an apparently proper trial.

But just like the Prosecution, Stanišić also miscalculated. He bet on the wrong horse. In the eyes of his former “friends” Stanišić was a relic of the past, of little or no residual utility. They had fresh faces, other players that they were cultivating to take the helm after driving Milošević out. The most that they would have been willing to arrange for him was a symbolic time served sentence in return for spilling the beans on his former boss.

Jovica Stanišić is another embodiment of Kissinger’s famous dictum, a lesson that Eastern European bumpkins never seem to learn.

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Ukraine and Moldova Could Gain Wider EU Single Market Access Before Membership

The European Commission is considering giving candidate countries wider access to the EU single market, research programmes and industrial cooperation before they become full members, as Brussels prepares a broader overhaul of its enlargement policy.

Under a draft proposal reported on Tuesday, Brussels would offer what it describes as “gradual integration”, extending access to trade, research, innovation and industrial cooperation as individual candidates bring their legislation into line with EU rules and demonstrate that they can enforce them.

The proposal would take considerably further an approach the Commission has been developing for several years. Its existing policy review on pre-enlargement reforms already provides for gradual integration into selected EU policies before accession, including early access to parts of the single market.

According to the reported draft, earlier integration would create new opportunities for EU businesses, reinforce European value chains and reduce strategic dependencies.

“Earlier integration will unlock opportunities for Union businesses, strengthen European value chains and reduce strategic dependencies,” the draft states.

The Commission would determine where sufficient regulatory alignment and enforcement capacity existed to permit deeper participation in research, innovation and industrial cooperation, as well as broader market access.

The arrangement would remain conditional. Candidate countries would not receive unrestricted access simply because accession negotiations had begun.

Instead, the extent of integration would depend on progress in adopting and enforcing EU legislation, as well as cooperation with Brussels on foreign policy, sanctions, investment screening, export controls and the protection of sensitive technologies.

Market access linked to strategic alignment

One of the most significant elements of the proposal is the connection between economic integration and the EU’s wider security policy.

As industrial and market integration deepens, participation in sensitive sectors would have to be accompanied by cooperation on investment screening, export controls, sanctions implementation and protection of sensitive technologies, according to the draft.

Access would also take account of strategic alignment, critical dependencies and a candidate country’s ability to manage risks involving infrastructure and supply chains.

The Commission has already established the principle that early integration into the single market requires both alignment with EU legislation and effective enforcement. Existing arrangements with Ukraine, Moldova and Western Balkan countries have been used to test integration in individual sectors before membership.

The new proposal would expand that model considerably.

It could also increase pressure on candidate countries whose foreign policies diverge from those of the EU, particularly over relations with Russia and China.

Ukraine and Moldova among countries targeted

Ukraine, Moldova, Albania and Montenegro are expected to be offered specific roadmaps intended to accelerate their integration over the coming years.

All four have advanced in the accession process, although at different speeds.

Ukraine and Moldova have moved into substantive negotiations covering the legislation and institutional reforms required for membership. As EU Today reported in June, the process now involves detailed scrutiny of the rule of law, public administration, democratic institutions and the ability to implement EU legislation.

Moldova is already being integrated into selected areas of the European economy. It has joined the Single Euro Payments Area and the EU’s roaming regime, while Brussels has also expanded its participation in European programmes. The Commission said after the EU-Moldova summit in June that gradual integration into the single market was already under way.

Ukraine has similarly been moving towards deeper economic integration through its existing free-trade arrangements with the EU and sector-by-sector alignment with European legislation.

Enlargement Commissioner Marta Kos has previously said that Brussels intends to accelerate Ukraine’s integration into additional parts of the single market before membership, adding that ideas developed for Ukraine should also be considered for other candidates.

A wider change to enlargement policy

The proposal comes as the EU attempts to resolve a central problem surrounding its current enlargement round: accession can take many years, while the political and economic consequences of keeping candidate countries outside the Union continue to grow.

Croatia, which joined in 2013, remains the EU’s most recent new member.

Several candidates have spent years — and in some cases decades — within the accession framework. Negotiations with Türkiye are effectively frozen, while Serbia, North Macedonia and Bosnia and Herzegovina have experienced prolonged delays.

Brussels is also considering how to protect EU decision-making and rule-of-law standards as membership expands. EU Today reported earlier this year that five member states had proposed additional safeguards for future members, including stronger monitoring and mechanisms intended to prevent individual governments from obstructing EU decisions.

Gradual integration offers a separate response to the same enlargement problem: economic integration would no longer have to wait until every stage of accession had been completed.

The European Parliament has backed the principle of merit-based and reversible gradual integration, including access to parts of the single market for candidates making sufficient progress. Parliament has also stressed that such arrangements should not become a substitute for membership or create different permanent categories of EU states.

Under the Commission’s emerging model, candidates could therefore move progressively into the EU’s economic and regulatory system while accession negotiations continue.

Full membership would remain the stated objective. But a process in which most of the economic advantages arrive only at the end could increasingly be replaced by one in which access is granted sector by sector as candidates meet the required conditions.

The Commission is due to present its assessment of how future enlargement will affect major EU policies, and what changes the Union itself will need to accommodate new members, on 6th October.

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[Interview] 70% of Montenegro supports EU membership – so will it happen in 2028? We ask lead MEP Marjan Šarec

After Iceland voted down EU membership in an August referendum, Montenegro regained its status as the most-likely 28th member state of the bloc.

Its government plans to close negotiations on all the chapters of the accession agreement by the end of the year and enter the Union in 2028 – a challenge, especially as a planned Tuesday meeting (22 September) with EU negotiators was postponed.

Montenegro also needs to answer the Union’s concerns about corruption and persuade all the member states to let it in.

EUobserver spoke to Marjan Šarec, former Slovenian prime minister, MEP for Renew Europe, and the parliament’s rapporteur for Montenegro. He follows the negotiation process, keeping his optimism for the country’s accession.

Can Montenegro become the 28th member of the European Union by 2028?

It’s the ambition of Montenegro, surely I would like to see that happen. The process of ratification would need to be smooth, it also depends when Montenegro concludes the negotiations – their ambition is to do it by the end of this year, which is very ambitious. Eighteen chapters have been provisionally closed, there are quite a few to go.But it also depends on the member states.  

What’s the next thing on the negotiations agenda? 

There are some chapters which are still difficult: the rule of law, the judiciary system, corruption, organised crime, all those issues are very demanding. What worries me is implementation because you can pass a law, but you also have to implement it. Montenegro has its problems, and it will have those problems for several years. But EU membership would help to build a different society, different environment. 

And when it comes to the chapters to finish, what are some of the most contentious issues? 

The issue of corruption is quite difficult to solve because, well, Montenegro is a small society: 630,000 inhabitants. In such an environment, it’s very difficult to prosecute: that’s why it will take some time. But Montenegro surely made a lot of progress and we can be moderately optimistic.

What are the risks of the accession negotiations taking a long time?

This article continues, but the full version is available only to EUobserver.com subscribers. Visit account.euobserver.com/membership

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Des Balkans en voie d'accaparement

Encore préservées du béton, les côtes albanaises de l'Adriatique sont rattrapées par les conséquences du tourisme, lequel conduit à détruire ce que l'on vient admirer. Le phénomène se répand d'autant plus vite qu'il peut rapporter gros à ceux qui s'approprient les meilleurs sites. Pour gagner l'allégeance des responsables politiques du cru, la tâche est d'autant plus facile quand on s'appelle Trump.

JPEG - 124.4 kio
Endri Dani. – « Palimpsest 01 », 2010
© Endri Dani - Mucem, Marseille

Fasciné par les montagnes striées de torrents, les plaines fertiles et l'hospitalité de leurs habitants lors de sa traversée du sud de l'Albanie en 1809, lord Byron a célébré une nature d'autant plus belle « dans ses formes sauvages » que « rien d'humain n'ose souiller ses asiles ». Voyageant à cheval, il a gagné Tepelena, sur les rives de la Vjosa, où Ali Pacha, gouverneur défiant l'autorité ottomane, lui a réservé un accueil fastueux.

Deux siècles plus tard, en juillet 2021, Mme Ivanka Trump (fille du président des États-Unis) et son époux, M. Jared Kushner, découvrent à leur tour la région, en débarquant sur l'île de Sazan depuis le yacht de leur ami, le financier britannique Nathaniel Rothschild. Lieu stratégique, situé à l'entrée de l'Adriatique et de la baie de Vlora, cet ancien avant-poste ottoman et vénitien permet de contrôler le détroit d'Otrante. Il abrita des forces italiennes et allemandes pendant la seconde guerre mondiale, puis des sous-marins soviétiques jusqu'à 1961, date de la rupture avec le régime communiste d'Enver Hodja (au pouvoir de 1944 à sa mort, en 1985), qui a couvert l'île de mini-casemates par la suite.

Sur l'autre rive de la baie s'étend l'aire protégée de Vjosa-Narta, qui englobe lagune, littoral et embouchure de la Vjosa, l'un des derniers fleuves sauvages d'Europe, classée parc national depuis 2023. Situés sur un important axe de migration entre l'Afrique et l'Europe, ces étangs, dunes, pinèdes et plages abritent près de 250 espèces d'oiseaux, dont des flamants roses et des pélicans.

Sur le chemin du Monténégro, au port de Durrës, le premier ministre albanais, M. Edi Rama, rejoint ces visiteurs de marque à bord et leur parle du développement de l'Albanie, qu'il entend fonder sur le tourisme. Mme Trump a flairé la bonne affaire : bâtir sur l'île et la côte des complexes de luxe avec plages privées. Un an plus tard, M. Kushner explore davantage la région de Vlora, où un nouvel aéroport est en construction. Il revoit M. Rama à Davos et lui propose d'investir dans le pays. M. Rama s'emploie à lever rapidement les obstacles législatifs.

« C'était la saison de nidification. Nous suivions les oiseaux nicheurs lorsqu'une collègue nous a signalé la présence d'engins sur place », raconte M. Joni Vorpsi, ornithologue au sein de l'Association pour la protection et la préservation de l'environnement naturel en Albanie. Le 6 mai dernier, en présence de représentants du réseau BirdLife International, il découvre un chantier déjà avancé : dunes éventrées, arbres abattus, route ouverte, canal reliant la lagune à la mer modifié. « Dans une zone protégée, sans autorisation environnementale, c'est une grave infraction : tout l'écosystème est menacé », dénonce à son tour M. Olsi Nika, directeur du Centre pour la protection des écosystèmes en Albanie, EcoAlbania. Le 16 mai, quelque trois cents habitants et militants se mobilisent sur place.

Les neuf villages alentour vivent de la pêche, de l'agriculture et du tourisme estival. Leurs habitants ne veulent pas devenir les larbins de riches clients d'hôtels bâtis sur ces lieux uniques. Lorsque des clôtures coupent l'accès aux terres et aux plages, certains tentent d'arracher le grillage. Des vigiles frappent un manifestant et le traînent au sol sous le regard de la police. Le premier ministre Rama révèle alors que ce projet est lié à la famille Trump. Loin de désarmer les critiques, ce patronyme attise la colère. « Il pensait sans doute que, dans un pays très proaméricain, on hésiterait à se révolter. L'effet a été inverse », observe Ola Xama, journaliste de MCN TV, une chaîne privée de Tirana. Les manifestations ont tourné à l'affrontement avec la police, qui n'a pas manqué d'utiliser la force. Baptisé « révolution des flamants roses », ce soulèvement rassemble plusieurs centaines de milliers de personnes dans les rues de la capitale en juin dernier, avant de gagner la diaspora, des États-Unis à l'Australie.

Des enclaves de luxe

Avec ses montagnes, oliveraies et plages sauvages de l'Adriatique comme ses vestiges romains, byzantins ou ottomans, l'Albanie attirait jusqu'à présent un tourisme de baroudeurs, loin des amateurs de confort retranchés dans des enclaves de luxe. « Malgré l'absence d'infrastructures, parfois même de routes, les habitants ont développé un tourisme fondé sur l'accueil, les produits agricoles et les traditions. Les grands complexes de luxe menacent cette fragile économie », souligne Doriana Musaj, architecte et urbaniste.

Le projet des époux Kushner s'appuie sur une loi de 2015 relative aux investissements stratégiques, qui autorise des procédures accélérées, un accès privilégié au foncier public et des exonérations fiscales. L'État finance les routes, l'eau, les égouts et l'électricité. Les investisseurs privés amortissent le coût des travaux par la vente anticipée d'appartements ou de villas. La proximité avec le pouvoir facilite l'avancement des dossiers.

À Durrës, par exemple, la société Eagle Hills, dirigée par le promoteur émirati Mohamed Alabbar, transforme une partie du port en marina et complexe résidentiel, hôtelier et commercial. Le groupe détient 67 % du projet, contre 33 % pour l'État, qui apporte le foncier et accorde des avantages fiscaux. Déjà contesté au Monténégro, M. Alabbar l'est désormais en Albanie, où les premiers immeubles se sont affaissés dans le sable jusqu'à vingt-huit centimètres par endroits. Mais ce qui se joue à Durrës n'est qu'un volet d'une politique d'accaparement des espaces les plus convoités par des investisseurs proches du pouvoir. Une enquête journalistique du média indépendant albanais Citizens.al a recensé sur dix ans 252 décisions du Conseil national du territoire, présidé par M. Rama, portant au total sur 11,27 millions de mètres carrés de terrains et 5,49 millions de mètres carrés de surface de plancher, soit près d'une fois et demie les surfaces de bureaux du quartier de La Défense, près de Paris.

À la suite de manifestations, le Parlement européen a adopté, le 7 juin, une résolution appelant à un moratoire sur toute nouvelle construction dans les zones protégées et rappelé, en citant Vjosa-Narta, que le respect des normes environnementales conditionnait l'adhésion à l'Union européenne, que l'Albanie voudrait rejoindre. Quelques jours plus tôt, M. Rama assurait pourtant que le projet ne serait « pas annulé tant [qu'il serait] premier ministre ». Aujourd'hui, il cherche surtout à gagner du temps en espérant l'épuisement du mouvement.

Derrière le projet de Vjosa-Narta se dessine un montage financier opaque. À partir de 2021, South Adriatic Development, contrôlé par l'homme d'affaires albanais Redi Struga, a acquis environ 1,2 million de mètres carrés de terrains. Le foncier et les permis de construire ont ensuite été répartis entre plusieurs sociétés relevant de Sazan Real Estate Development (SRED). Établie au Qatar, l'entreprise est contrôlée à 70 % par les frères Moutaz et Ramez Al-Khayyat. Les bénéficiaires des 30 % restants, détenus par l'intermédiaire de sociétés au Luxembourg et dans le Delaware, demeurent inconnus (1).

Le parquet spécial albanais chargé de la lutte contre la corruption et le crime organisé (SPAK) soupçonne le vendeur de plusieurs parcelles, M. Artur Shehu, de blanchiment d'argent et de falsification de documents. Son nom apparaissait dès 2019 dans une enquête européenne sur des rencontres de narcotrafiquants présumés à Aruba (Antilles). Ces réunions auraient porté sur « des projets immobiliers potentiellement financés par des fonds illicites et soutenus par les autorités politiques ». À Zvërnec, il aurait acquis des terrains grâce notamment à un registre ottoman contrefait. Dès septembre 2024, des habitants avaient demandé à M. Kushner de renoncer à « des actions portant atteinte aux droits de propriété immobilière du village (2) ».

Le SPAK enquête alors sur la concession de l'aéroport de Vlora, dont les travaux ont commencé en novembre 2021 dans la zone protégée de Vjosa-Narta, avant son déclassement en 2022. Le chantier s'est poursuivi malgré les objections européennes, tandis qu'un conflit oppose les concessionnaires, M. Behgjet Pacolli, ancien président du Kosovo (du 22 février au 1er avril 2011), et M. Valon Ademi, ancien consul honoraire d'Albanie au Kosovo.

Cette affaire, comme bien d'autres, met en lumière un chaos foncier. Abolie sous Enver Hodja, la propriété privée fait depuis 1993 l'objet d'une restitution inachevée, minée par la corruption et la coexistence de titres de propriété contradictoires. Lancée en 2016, la réforme judiciaire a écarté plus de la moitié des magistrats contrôlés pour patrimoine inexpliqué ou liens avec le crime organisé, mais le non-remplacement des postes laissés vacants par la lutte contre la corruption a paralysé les tribunaux, qui ne peuvent faire face à tous les contentieux fonciers.

Fin mai, alors que la colère des Albanais gagne la rue, la fille de M. Donald Trump affirme encore travailler avec « certains des plus grands architectes de notre époque » à l'aménagement de Sazan, l'« aboutissement de toute [son] expérience dans l'immobilier ». Mais, quand la controverse s'amplifie, Affinity Partners, le fonds de M. Kushner, prend ses distances, affirmant que les investisseurs liés au projet interviennent « à titre personnel ».

Avant l'arrivée du couple Trump-Kushner, les mobilisations contre l'accaparement du littoral restaient largement ignorées par des médias, dont les principaux propriétaires ont eux-mêmes des intérêts dans la construction et le tourisme. Aujourd'hui, à l'endroit où la statue d'Enver Hodja a été déboulonnée en 1991, les manifestants scandent tour à tour : « Rama en prison, Berisha [ancien président et premier ministre, Parti démocrate] en prison », « L'Albanie n'est pas à vendre ». « Cette mobilisation exprime trente-cinq ans de colère. La démocratie et le libéralisme promis devaient améliorer la vie ; les Albanais ont découvert un système dont ils se sentent exclus », explique Gresa Hasa, doctorante au Centre d'études de l'Europe du Sud-Est de l'université de Graz.

Le Parti démocrate de M. Sali Berisha, principale formation d'opposition, soutient aussi les projets liés à la famille Trump. « Le Parti socialiste est l'ancien Parti communiste, rebaptisé après la chute du régime. Pour beaucoup d'Albanais, il prolonge l'ancienne nomenklatura, qui a conservé ses privilèges », estime M. Redi Muçi, premier député de Lëvizja Bashkë (« Ensemble »), mouvement de gauche engagé dans les mobilisations de Zvërnec.

Résistance des petits peuples

La colère contre les politiques néolibérales qui nourrissent corruption et crime organisé traverse aujourd'hui les Balkans. Le soulèvement albanais rappelle celui qui embrase la Serbie depuis novembre 2024. L'Union européenne ou les États-Unis suscitent une défiance croissante par leur faible soutien aux mouvements populaires et leurs accords avec les dirigeants locaux, comme M. Rama, qui a aussi multiplié les gestes à l'égard de M. Trump (3).

Ces mouvements de contestation dessinent une dynamique nouvelle dans une région longtemps divisée. Dominant la scène politique de leurs pays depuis plus d'une décennie, le premier ministre albanais Rama et le président serbe Aleksandar Vučić recourent à des méthodes similaires. « Par-delà leurs étiquettes idéologiques, ces dirigeants utilisent les grands projets urbains et immobiliers comme des instruments de pouvoir politique et économique », observe M. Lutfi Dervishi, enseignant à l'université de Tirana. De ces mobilisations sont nés des liens entre organisations étudiantes, syndicales et écologistes de toute la région.

Dans son exaltation romantique des Albanais, Byron célébrait la résistance des petits peuples aux grandes puissances. Deux siècles plus tard, cette aspiration reste vive dans les Balkans.

Voir en ligne : /2026/10/OTASEVIC/70107

(1) Lire Tristan Coloma et Lindita Çela, « Géopolitique des hôtels de luxe », Le Monde diplomatique, août 2026.

(2) Eliot Brown et Vladimir Karaj, « The suspected gangster causing headaches for Kushner's Albania deal », The Wall Street Journal, New York, 8 août 2026.

(3) Lire « De Belgrade à Tirana, ces chefs d'État qui vénèrent M. Trump », Le Monde diplomatique, juillet 2026.

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« Notre ami » Thaçi, criminel de guerre

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« La liberté a un nom : UÇK ». Slogan de l'Armée de libération du Kosovo au centre-ville de Pristina, devant la cathédrale orthodoxe à l'abandon, février 2023.
© Philippe Descamps

Les chambres spécialisées pour le Kosovo ont condamné le 16 septembre dernier l'ancien président de la République Hashim Thaçi et son principal comparse, M. Jakup Krasniqi, à 25 ans d'emprisonnement pour « crimes de guerre ». Elles ont également condamné deux autres anciens hauts responsables de l'Armée de libération du Kosovo (UÇK en albanais), MM. Kadri Veseli et Rexhep Selimi, à des peines un peu plus courtes (18 et 13 ans de prison). Tous plaidaient non coupables et peuvent faire appel.

Des magistrats internationaux composent ce tribunal de droit kosovar, délocalisé à La Haye. L'acte d'accusation visait la période du conflit armé qui a opposé l'UÇK aux forces de la République de Yougoslavie, entre avril 1998 et août 1999. À l'issue d'une très longue enquête, après l'audition de 156 victimes et 30 000 pages de procédure, les juges ont conclu que les quatre accusés « sont pénalement responsables, en raison de leur contribution significative à une entreprise criminelle commune, de crimes de guerre pour détention arbitraire à l'encontre [d'au moins] 385 personnes, traitements cruels à l'encontre de 49 personnes, torture à l'encontre de 303 personnes et meurtre à l'encontre de 96 personnes. »

Reprenant la formule de l'historien Howard Zinn, « aucun drapeau n'est assez grand pour couvrir la honte de tuer des innocents », les magistrats ont souligné qu'une cause ou un contexte de guerre ne saurait justifier de s'en prendre à des civils, en l'occurrence essentiellement de supposés opposants d'autres partis albanais et des membres de minorités (Serbes et Roms pour l'essentiel). Les chambres relèvent aussi que « ce procès s'est déroulé dans un climat permanent d'intimidation des témoins ».

Âgé de 58 ans, M. Thaçi a participé à la fondation de l'UÇK dont il fut commandant en chef. Après l'intervention de l'Organisation du traité de l'Atlantique nord (OTAN) et le retrait des forces serbes, il a été premier ministre de la province à plusieurs reprises, puis président de la République du Kosovo de 2016 à 2020, un État non reconnu par les Nations unies.

Présenté comme son « ami » par Bernard Kouchner, alors ministre des affaires étrangères, M. Thaçi a été très longtemps soutenu par les Occidentaux, et particulièrement les Français, en dépit des graves accusations dont il faisait l'objet depuis longtemps. En mars 2018, il était à Paris pour remettre la « médaille présidentielle du jubilé » à l'ancien président Nicolas Sarkozy et « la médaille de l'Ordre de la liberté » à l'ancien premier ministre Alain Juppé. Il indiquait à l'époque sur son compte Facebook : « L'avenir du Kosovo est assuré grâce à des amis issus de tout l'échiquier politique français qui, au fil des décennies, ont soutenu et encouragé la consolidation et le renforcement de l'État kosovar. » Lors des cérémonies du centenaire de l'armistice de novembre 1918, à Paris, il fut placé tout près du président Emmanuel Macron, dans la tribune principale des personnalités, tandis que le président serbe — un pays allié de la France pendant la première guerre mondiale — était relégué à une tribune secondaire.

Dans nos archives

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Faillite de la mission européenne au Kosovo

Des crimes impunis, un déficit extérieur colossal, une partie de la population fuyant un chômage de masse, des responsables rêvant tout haut de « Grande Albanie » : le Kosovo semble livré à ses démons. Le patronage de l'Union européenne ne lui a pas permis de décoller, et des affaires de corruption entachent la mission internationale visant à instaurer un Etat de droit.

En moins d'un an, près de cent mille Kosovars auraient tenté de rejoindre l'Union européenne. Le flux a grossi avec l'arrivée du printemps. Chaque jour, des familles entières, parents, enfants, vieillards, traversent la Serbie pour gagner la frontière hongroise. Soixante mille Albanais du Kosovo auraient demandé des passeports serbes pour obtenir un visa européen, selon les autorités de Belgrade.

« Sept ans après la proclamation d'indépendance et la mise sous tutelle du Kosovo par l'Union européenne, c'est la débâcle », nous affirme M. Andrea Capussela, qui fut jusqu'en avril 2011 directeur des affaires économiques du Bureau civil international (International Civilian Office, ICO), l'une des principales missions déployées au Kosovo. « La situation est pire qu'avant l'arrivée de la mission européenne », ajoute l'expert italien, qui vient de publier un brûlot sur la politique européenne dans les Balkans (1). Selon lui, cette situation ne met pas seulement en cause les investissements de l'Union européenne dans le pays — plus de 4 milliards d'euros sur la période 1999-2013 —, mais aussi la crédibilité de sa politique étrangère.

Depuis l'automne dernier, la responsable de la diplomatie européenne, Mme Federica Mogherini, tente d'éteindre l'incendie qui gagne la mission européenne pour l'instauration de l'Etat de droit au Kosovo (Eulex). Celle-ci, décidée en février 2008, vise à renforcer les institutions judiciaire et policière. Dotée d'un financement annuel de 111 millions d'euros, elle mobilise mille six cents personnes afin, notamment, de combattre la corruption et la criminalité organisée. Mais plusieurs de ses responsables sont soupçonnés de malversations, tandis que l'institution est accusée d'avoir couvert ces dérapages.

« Pendant un an, ils ont non seulement enterré, mais aussi compromis l'enquête », dénonce Mme Maria Bamieh, par qui le scandale est arrivé. Cette procureure britannique travaillait pour la force d'intervention indépendante chargée des affaires criminelles au sein de la mission européenne. Dans un rapport de 2012, elle a averti ses supérieurs de soupçons de corruption visant notamment deux hauts responsables : le juge italien Francesco Florit, alors président de l'assemblée des juges d'Eulex, et la procureure en chef Jaroslava Novotna. La magistrate britannique fonde ses allégations sur les écoutes de conversations téléphoniques entre l'ex-secrétaire du ministère de la santé du Kosovo, M. Ilir Tolaj, poursuivi pour corruption et fraude fiscale en 2010, et des intermédiaires. Ceux-ci l'assuraient être en contact avec ces deux juges, capables de se montrer compréhensifs (2)…

« Nos chefs dînent avec des mafieux »

La procureure évoque d'autres cas de compromission en lien avec Eulex. En particulier ceux concernant le très influent Fatmir Limaj, ancien ministre des transports, inculpé pour crime organisé et détournement de fonds, ou M. Enver Sekiraqa, un petit chef mafieux de Pristina mis en cause dans une affaire d'attentat à la bombe. Mais, curieusement, son rapport disparaît et aucune suite n'est donnée.

En octobre 2014, le principal quotidien du Kosovo, Koha Ditore, se procure des éléments du dossier et obtient un entretien avec Mme Catherine Fearon, la conseillère politique du nouveau chef d'Eulex, l'Italien Gabriele Meucci. Le journaliste Vehbi Kajtazi affirme que, lors de leur entrevue, Mme Fearon l'a sommé de livrer ses sources et l'a menacé de poursuites judiciaires. En dépit de ces pressions, le journal commence à publier une enquête dans son édition du 27 octobre 2014. Ces révélations provoquent la suspension… de Mme Bamieh ! « Epuisement au travail », décrète M. Meucci, qui reproche aussi à la Britannique d'avoir donné des informations aux médias. Rentrée depuis à Londres, Mme Bamieh accuse ses supérieurs d'être trop proches de puissants hommes politiques au cœur d'enquêtes criminelles : « Comment pouvons-nous remplir notre mission quand nos chefs dînent avec des mafieux et des politiciens kosovars soupçonnés de corruption ? »

Devant le scandale, Mme Mogherini ordonne une enquête, confiée au professeur Jean-Paul Jacqué, ancien directeur de l'Institut des hautes études européennes de Strasbourg. Cet expert en droit international a dirigé entre 1992 et 2008 le service juridique du Conseil des ministres de l'Union européenne, l'institution qui a mandaté Eulex. Dans son rapport, rendu public le 14 avril dernier, il ne considère pas qu'une affaire aurait été étouffée ; il invoque plutôt une série d'erreurs administratives. Bruxelles n'a pas été suffisamment informé du document détaillant les soupçons au sein d'Eulex, et ses cadres supérieurs auraient tardé à enquêter car ils ne trouvaient pas le contenu des interceptions téléphoniques « particulièrement crédible ». Il juge pourtant qu'une enquête « aurait dû être ouverte dès le départ », après l'avertissement de Mme Bamieh à sa hiérarchie. Evoquant les menaces contre Kajtazi (3), Jacqué estime que la conseillère du chef de la mission « a mis en garde le journaliste contre la divulgation d'informations concernant des cas criminels, puisque ce serait une infraction en vertu de la loi kosovare ».

Pour Kajtazi, on ne peut pas considérer le rapport de Jacqué comme indépendant : « Il conclut que je n'ai pas été l'objet de menaces. Il s'agirait d'une erreur de communication. La vérité est que la mission Eulex m'a bien menacé de poursuites si je venais à publier un article », nous affirme le journaliste. « Jacqué a essayé de minimiser la possibilité que la mission soit impliquée dans la corruption. »

Le rapport se démarque néanmoins du discours officiel des institutions européennes, qui présentent la mission au Kosovo comme un modèle de reconstruction. Le professeur constate de graves dysfonctionnements au sein de la représentation de l'Union et décrit une corruption « omniprésente » dans le pays, en précisant que « le secteur judiciaire ne fait pas exception ». Sept ans d'une action visant à restaurer l'Etat de droit n'ont pas suffi à éradiquer les prévarications, mais « il devait être néanmoins possible d'établir les fondations d'un système capable de combattre la corruption ». Selon lui, Eulex — dont le mandat s'achève en 2016 — perdra son sens si on ne parvient pas à la réformer. Mais son retrait lui apparaît prématuré, car le système judiciaire local ne semble pas capable de traiter certaines affaires.

Dans une lettre ouverte à Jacqué, Mme Bamieh juge son rapport décevant et imprécis. Elle y voit davantage une note interne qu'un travail indépendant. « Les transcriptions [des écoutes] indiquent que l'argent a bien été versé », souligne-t-elle. Elle déplore que l'enquête ne concerne pas la procureure en chef Novotna. Elle regrette en outre que celle visant M. Florit n'ait été lancée qu'en 2013, après la réception d'informations provenant des services de renseignement allemands, et non sur la base de son propre rapport interne, transmis à ses supérieurs en 2012. Elle cite également les noms d'anciens collègues qui l'ont soutenue et qui ont dû quitter Eulex.

Après les errements du Tribunal pénal international pour l'ex-Yougoslavie (TPIY) (4), et toujours dans l'attente de suites judiciaires au rapport du procureur américain Clint Williamson sur les trafics d'organe et les crimes de l'Armée de libération du Kosovo (UCK) (5), l'affaire Bamieh révèle l'ampleur des compromissions européennes : « On parle de la corruption, du crime organisé, mais on ne dit jamais que c'est un régime autoritaire semi-consolidé que nous avons créé, et qu'une élite de criminels issue de l'UCK vole l'argent public et s'accroche au pouvoir », s'enflamme M. Capussela, qui a travaillé durant quatre ans pour l'Union européenne au Kosovo.

Principale force de la guérilla soutenue par les Occidentaux dans le conflit de 1999, l'UCK a pris le pouvoir après les bombardements de l'Organisation du traité de l'Atlantique nord (OTAN) et la capitulation de la Serbie. Les enquêtes de la procureure du TPIY, Mme Carla Del Ponte, puis de M. Dick Marty, au nom du Conseil de l'Europe, ont montré que cette milice s'était livrée à des exactions contre des civils serbes ou roms et contre ses opposants politiques albanais. Une partie de ces meurtres, enlèvements, séquestrations et tortures ont eu lieu dans les premières années de l'après-guerre, en présence des troupes de l'OTAN et de la Mission d'administration intérimaire des Nations unies au Kosovo (Minuk), dont le Français Bernard Kouchner fut le premier dirigeant.

« La mission n'était pas capable de défendre les civils », estime M. Christopher Decker, venu au Kosovo en 1999 comme membre de l'International Crisis Group, avant de rejoindre l'Organisation pour la sécurité et la coopération en Europe (OSCE). « La police de l'ONU était mal équipée et pas du tout préparée. C'était facile pour l'UCK de se livrer à la violence », explique cet Américain qui a passé douze ans sur place. « La communauté internationale répète les mêmes erreurs : on intervient militairement, puis on laisse des éléments criminels prendre le pouvoir, ce qui empêche l'instauration de l'Etat de droit », se désole-t-il.

Dès le début, on a épargné l'élite locale, les « gros poissons », car cela pouvait déranger l'ordre établi et provoquer une instabilité. Mme Del Ponte affirme non seulement que les plus hauts dirigeants de l'UCK représentaient un danger pour l'accomplissement de sa mission, mais aussi qu'ils pouvaient mettre en péril tout l'édifice du processus de paix dans les Balkans : « Hashim Thaçi [premier ministre de 2008 à 2014] et Agim Ceku [de 2006 à 2008] étaient en mesure de déclencher des violences en Macédoine, dans le sud de la Serbie et dans d'autres régions, en appelant les minorités albanaises rebelles aux armes (6). »

« Au début, j'étais surpris par la négligence, l'incompétence et la paresse qui régnaient au sein de la mission. J'ai compris plus tard que des choix politiques expliquaient en partie cette attitude », raconte M. Capussela. « Ceux qui voulaient européaniser le Kosovo se sont balkanisés », estime le politiste kosovar Belul Beqaj. S'y ajoute une culture de l'impunité propre à toutes les missions internationales, puisque leurs membres échappent aux poursuites judiciaires. « Leurs employés ne sont pas justiciables. Les pays ne veulent pas que leurs représentants nationaux soient jugés », nous explique Mme Sian Jones, spécialiste du Kosovo à Amnesty International.

Poursuites contre des innocents

Dans son livre, M. Capussela dresse une liste des défaillances flagrantes d'Eulex, qu'elles soient économiques, financières ou relatives aux droits humains. Ainsi, la mission n'a pas enquêté sur les affaires de corruption liées aux privatisations (télécommunications, ciment), aux constructions de routes, à l'expropriation des terres, à la fraude électorale, à l'intimidation des journalistes, aux assassinats politiques, ni sur certains crimes de guerre.

Pis, Eulex a parfois poursuivi des innocents. La mission a par exemple gardé en détention pendant quatre mois le gouverneur de la banque centrale sans révéler les charges pesant contre lui — qui furent abandonnées par la suite. Pour l'économiste italien, qui a alerté Eulex sur des accusations qu'il jugeait peu crédibles, l'homme a été arrêté parce qu'il s'opposait aux intérêts de personnages puissants.

Avec la corruption et l'impunité qui règnent au Kosovo, les tensions montent. Les politiciens, l'homme fort du pays Hashim Thaçi en tête, détournent l'attention vers l'extérieur : « Grâce à leurs réseaux, ils peuvent provoquer des émeutes en Macédoine, où la situation est très instable, contre les Serbes du Kosovo, ou contre les représentants de l'Union, estime M. Capussela. Ils enverraient ainsi un message à Bruxelles et à Washington : “Vous franchissez la ligne rouge.” » Pour M. Decker aussi, la classe dirigeante kosovare sait tirer parti de la violence : « S'il n'y avait pas eu d'émeutes en 2004 [contre les Serbes et les autres minorités], il n'y aurait pas eu autant de pressions pour l'indépendance. »

L'incapacité d'Eulex, après celle de la Minuk, à établir une justice fonctionnelle ne pose pas seulement la question des investissements européens dans la mission — plus d'un milliard d'euros —, mais aussi celles du respect des droits des citoyens kosovars et du maintien de la paix dans la région.

Voir en ligne : /2015/06/OTASEVIC/53059

(1) Andrea Lorenzo Capussela, State-Building in Kosovo : Democracy, Corruption and the EU in the Balkans, I. B. Tauris, Londres, 2015.

(2) Julian Borger, « EU's biggest foreign mission in turmoil over corruption row », The Guardian, Londres, 7 novembre 2014.

(3) « Un journaliste d'investigation menacé par la mission européenne au Kosovo », Reporters sans frontières, 31 octobre 2014.

(4) Lire Jean-Arnault Dérens, « Justice borgne pour les Balkans », Le Monde diplomatique, janvier 2013.

(5) « Statement by the Chief Prosecutor of the Special Investigative Task Force (SITF) on investigative findings », 29 juillet 2014. A partir de ce rapport, le Parlement du Kosovo avait jusqu'à la fin mai pour mettre en place le tribunal spécial devant juger ces crimes, qui sont hors du mandat du TPIY.

(6) Carla Del Ponte, La Traque, les criminels de guerre et moi, Editions Héloïse d'Ormesson, Paris, 2009.

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Du Kosovo à la Crimée

Vingt ans après, la guerre du Kosovo continue de susciter des polémiques entre les grandes puissances, notamment la Russie et les États-Unis. Moscou invoque régulièrement l'intervention de l'Organisation du traité de l'Atlantique nord (OTAN) au printemps 1999 pour justifier les siennes, par exemple en Géorgie ou en Crimée. Dans un discours devant le Parlement, le 18 mars 2014, le président Vladimir Poutine affirmait ainsi : « Les autorités de Crimée se sont référées au précédent bien connu du Kosovo, un précédent que nos collègues occidentaux ont eux-mêmes créé dans une situation très semblable, quand ils ont convenu que la séparation unilatérale du Kosovo d'avec la Serbie — exactement ce que la Crimée est en train de faire en ce moment — était légitime et n'avait pas besoin d'une quelconque autorisation des autorités centrales du pays. »

Ce parallèle a fait l'objet d'une réfutation en règle par M. Barack Obama lui-même. Le président américain a justifié l'intervention de l'OTAN, qui n'a eu lieu « qu'après les violences et les meurtres systématiques subis par les populations du Kosovo. Le Kosovo n'a quitté la Serbie qu'au terme d'un référendum conforme au droit international, et dans le cadre d'une coopération scrupuleuse avec les Nations unies et les pays voisins du Kosovo » (Bruxelles, 26 mars 2014).

Cet échange pourrait susciter des débats juridiques sans fin, dans la mesure où le droit international consacre deux principes qui peuvent entrer en contradiction : l'intégrité des États et le droit des peuples à disposer d'eux-mêmes. C'est pourquoi les déclarations d'indépendance formulées par certaines composantes d'un pays (région, province), comme celle de la Catalogne en octobre 2017, suscitent des batailles judiciaires, mais aussi politiques : il s'agit d'obtenir que l'indépendance soit reconnue par un nombre d'États suffisamment important, en qualité et en quantité, pour rendre effectif le changement de statut du territoire concerné. C'est le problème rencontré aujourd'hui encore par le Kosovo, qui n'est pas reconnu par tous les membres de l'Union européenne.

Le statut des États étant la pierre angulaire de l'ordre international, les mouvements autonomistes font toujours l'objet d'une attention particulière de la part de leurs pays voisins et des instances internationales, compte tenu de leur potentiel perturbateur (tensions diplomatiques, conflit armé). Les référendums d'autodétermination, lorsqu'ils font suite à des interventions militaires extérieures, ne suffisent pas à lever les doutes sur la légitimité d'une partition. En outre, les conséquences des déclarations d'indépendance, dont le statut n'est pas réglé par le droit international, peuvent se révéler très graves. La reconnaissance unilatérale de l'indépendance de la Croatie et de la Slovénie par l'Allemagne, en décembre 1991, avait ainsi entraîné une réaction en chaîne meurtrière, contribuant au démantèlement désordonné de la Yougoslavie. Sans aller jusqu'à ce cas extrême, les pays membres des Nations unies seraient sans doute avisés de se concerter sur les grandes règles qui doivent gouverner les relations internationales en tenant compte de l'expérience acquise depuis 1990.

Sans cette concertation et la clarification des principes, le débat demeurera le simple jouet des rapports de forces et des appréciations plus ou moins subjectives des uns et des autres, comme l'illustre cette déclaration du ministre des affaires étrangères russe Sergueï Lavrov : « On nous répète sans cesse que “le Kosovo, c'était un cas à part, car des milliers de personnes ont péri là-bas”. Faut-il en conclure que, pour que les habitants de la Crimée obtiennent la reconnaissance de leur droit imprescriptible, il faut que coule autant de sang en Crimée qu'au Kosovo ? Pardonnez-moi, ce sont des parallèles et des analogies parfaitement impropres (1). » De son côté, M. Obama, qui s'était opposé en 2003, alors qu'il était sénateur, à l'agression américaine contre l'Irak, dont l'illégalité ne faisait aucun doute, estime finalement que les États-Unis ont « cherché à travailler dans le cadre du système international » (Bruxelles, 26 mars 2014). Ce qui est vrai, mais… après la guerre. La référence récurrente à l'intervention au Kosovo confirme qu'elle a fracturé un élément essentiel de l'ordre international : la confiance autour du tapis vert des négociations.

Voir en ligne : /2018/02/ROBERT/58363

(1) Le Courrier de Russie, Moscou, 16 avril 2014.

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La justice est-elle possible au Kosovo ?

L'ombre des crimes imputés à l'ancienne guérilla plane sur le Kosovo depuis deux décennies. L'arrestation, en novembre, du président Hashim Thaçi et de plusieurs de ses anciens compagnons de l'Armée de libération du Kosovo (UÇK) sonnerait-elle enfin le glas de l'impunité ? Jusqu'à présent, les Occidentaux avaient soutenu sans faille le nouveau pouvoir, au nom de la stabilité et au mépris des victimes.

JPEG - 172.1 kio
Albana Ejupi. — Sans titre, 2019
Lukas Feichtner Galerie, Vienne

Ce 5 novembre 2020, le président du Kosovo Hashim Thaçi s'est présenté devant les médias, le visage défait, pour annoncer sa démission et confirmer son inculpation par les chambres spécialisées pour le Kosovo, qui siègent à la Cour internationale de justice de La Haye. L'ancien porte-parole, puis chef politique, de l'Armée de libération du Kosovo (UÇK) doit être jugé pour des crimes de guerre et des crimes contre l'humanité commis durant le conflit armé de 1998-1999 contre le régime serbe de Slobodan Milošević et dans les mois qui ont suivi. Quelques heures plus tôt, le chef du Parti démocratique du Kosovo (PDK), M. Kadri Veseli, député et ancien chef du Service d'information du Kosovo (SHIK, les services de renseignement de l'UÇK), a lui aussi confirmé son inculpation, tout comme le député Rexhep Selimi. La veille, M. Jakup Krasniqi, ancien porte-parole de la guérilla et ancien président du Parlement (2007-2014), avait été arrêté à Pristina. La publication de l'acte d'accusation, le 24 juin 2020, avait déjà contraint M. Thaçi à annuler une rencontre à Washington avec son homologue serbe Aleksandar Vučić. Les quatre responsables politiques arrêtés par le bureau du procureur spécial et transférés vers une prison des Pays-Bas doivent répondre de crimes en bande organisée : persécutions, arrestations arbitraires, châtiments cruels, tortures et meurtres.

Chargées de juger les crimes commis sur le territoire de l'ancienne province serbe entre le 1er janvier 1998 et le 31 décembre 2000, financées principalement par l'Union européenne, les chambres spécialisées sont rattachées au système judiciaire du Kosovo. Délocalisées à La Haye, elles sont composées de magistrats étrangers et constituent donc une juridiction hybride, partiellement internationale, comme les tribunaux spéciaux pour le Liban, la Sierra Leone ou la Centrafrique. Depuis l'été 2019, plusieurs dizaines d'anciens guérilleros ont été entendus, parfois en qualité de suspects, parfois en qualité de témoins. Le 24 septembre 2020, un premier inculpé a été transféré devant ses juges. Ancien commandant de la région de Llap (nord-est du Kosovo), M. Sali Mustafa est accusé d'avoir commis ou ordonné des crimes contre des Serbes, des Roms et des Albanais (détention arbitraire, torture, traitement cruel et meurtre) (1).

Un roman national mis à mal

À l'origine de la création des chambres spécialisées, il y a le rapport du député suisse Dick Marty, approuvé en janvier 2011 par l'Assemblée parlementaire du Conseil de l'Europe (2). Déjà connu pour son travail sur les prisons spéciales de la Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), M. Marty a enquêté sur l'arrestation extrajudiciaire de plusieurs centaines de civils serbes ou roms, leur probable déportation en Albanie et leur disparition. Il a mis également au jour des détentions illégales, tortures et assassinats d'Albanais considérés par l'UÇK comme des adversaires politiques, le plus souvent des militants de la Ligue démocratique du Kosovo (LDK), la formation de la figure tutélaire de la résistance albanaise au Kosovo Ibrahim Rugova (mort en 2006). Ces crimes ont été commis durant le conflit armé, mais aussi par la suite, après l'instauration en 1999 du protectorat international des Nations unies sur le Kosovo, alors même que plus de quarante mille soldats de l'Organisation du traité de l'Atlantique nord (OTAN) venaient de prendre position dans cette ancienne province méridionale de la Serbie (3).

Les traitements inhumains et dégradants ainsi que les disparitions dénoncés dans le rapport Marty avaient déjà été établis par la Mission d'administration intérimaire des Nations unies au Kosovo (Minuk) et par l'Organisation pour la sécurité et la coopération en Europe (OSCE) (4). Le Tribunal pénal international pour l'ex-Yougoslavie (TPIY) avait également enquêté sur les crimes imputés à l'UÇK, mais Mme Carla Del Ponte, sa procureure générale entre 1999 et 2007, explique dans ses Mémoires avoir été empêchée de pousser plus loin ses investigations (5). Pis, elle dénonce la destruction délibérée de certaines pièces à conviction. Les incriminations du rapport Marty ont été confirmées, en juillet 2014, par celui de M. John Clint Williamson, un diplomate américain appointé comme procureur indépendant par l'Union européenne. La création d'une juridiction ad hoc pour juger ces crimes valait constat d'échec du TPIY. Il a cependant fallu de fortes pressions de Bruxelles et de Washington pour que le Parlement du Kosovo valide, en 2015, la création des chambres spécialisées par un amendement constitutionnel.

Le rapport de M. Marty mettait également en évidence un possible trafic d'organes prélevés sur des prisonniers serbes pour des transplantations à l'étranger. L'énormité de cette allégation a immédiatement focalisé l'attention, provoquant une vague de démentis, comme s'il était impossible d'attribuer un tel crime à l'UÇK : Mme Florence Hartmann, ancienne porte-parole de Mme Del Ponte, alla jusqu'à qualifier cette dernière d'« irresponsable », tout en évoquant le spectre du « révisionnisme », qui consisterait à vouloir « relativiser » les crimes commis par les forces serbes en mettant en avant d'autres exactions (6). Ces soupçons de trafic d'organes pourraient bien être l'arbre cachant la forêt des crimes : ce n'est qu'un élément du rapport et, s'il est avéré, il n'aurait pas concerné un nombre important de prisonniers. Le rapport Marty met surtout en lumière la manière dont un petit groupe de militants, pour beaucoup originaires de la Drenica, une région du centre du Kosovo, a préempté le monopole de la lutte armée contre le régime serbe. Souvent unis par des liens familiaux, les membres de ce groupe n'ont pas hésité à éliminer leurs potentiels rivaux, avant d'accaparer le pouvoir et ses prébendes.

L'UÇK a donné naissance au PDK, qui pouvait s'appuyer sur les réseaux de l'ombre du SHIK, dont les activités se sont poursuivies longtemps après la guerre, mais aussi sur les vétérans, dont le nombre a connu une augmentation exponentielle une fois la paix revenue. Devenu un instrument de clientélisme, le statut d'ancien combattant ouvre des droits à divers avantages sociaux, et il a été octroyé moins en fonction des mois passés dans le maquis que d'allégeances politiques. L'administration internationale a longtemps été tétanisée par la crainte d'entrer en conflit avec ce groupe de pression (7), mobilisé à chaque arrestation d'un ancien commandant de la guérilla. Les magistrats des chambres ont compris son importance : immédiatement après l'interpellation de M. Mustafa, ils ont ordonné celle des deux chefs de la puissante Organisation des vétérans de l'UÇK, MM. Hysni Gucati et Nasim Haradinaj, accusés d'offense envers la justice, d'intimidation de témoins et de divulgation des secrets de la procédure.

Depuis la fin du conflit, les références à la « guerre patriotique » sont omniprésentes au Kosovo. Dans le récit héroïque de cette « libération », les crimes de guerre sont l'apanage du régime serbe de Milošević (8). Les combattants de l'UÇK auraient été les « alliés de terrain » de l'OTAN, qui décida d'intervenir en mars 1999 (9), tandis que Rugova aurait veillé sur le pays, en dépit de son impuissance à agir à Pristina, contrôlée par l'armée serbe. Ce roman national se révèle toutefois de moins en moins mobilisateur. D'une part, la révélation des crimes commis contre les militants de la LDK de Rugova a mis à mal la fiction de l'unité politique des Albanais du Kosovo. D'autre part, les références à l'héroïsme du maquis ne suffisent plus à justifier la mise en coupe réglée du pays par les anciens guérilleros, souvent avec l'active complicité des fonctionnaires internationaux en mission sur place, tétanisés par le risque de violences (10).

Le TPIY a jugé plusieurs hauts responsables serbes, comme l'ancien vice-premier ministre Nikola Šainović ou l'ancien vice-ministre de l'intérieur Vlastimir Đorđević, tous deux condamnés à dix-huit ans de prison, respectivement en 2009 et 2014. En revanche, si le TPIY a inculpé plusieurs anciens commandants de l'UÇK, aucun n'a été inquiété définitivement, à l'exception de Haradin Bala, condamné à treize ans de prison en 2005 pour des crimes commis dans le camp de Llapushnik/Lapušnik durant l'été 1998. M. Fatmir Limaj, supérieur hiérarchique de Bala, a été arrêté en 2003, mais il a été acquitté deux ans plus tard. Rentré blanchi au Kosovo et auréolé d'une réputation de « martyr », il s'est aussitôt relancé en politique. La Mission européenne pour l'instauration de l'État de droit au Kosovo (Eulex) a certes ouvert une nouvelle procédure contre lui, pour le meurtre de sept prisonniers serbes et un albanais dans le village de Kleçkë/Klečka, mais il a de nouveau été acquitté en mai 2012.

Des familles de victimes sceptiques

La protection des témoins demeure un enjeu essentiel, comme le montre le cas de M. Ramush Haradinaj, charismatique commandant de la guérilla dans l'ouest du Kosovo. Inculpé en mars 2005, alors qu'il était premier ministre, il s'était immédiatement rendu à La Haye, mais avait été acquitté le 3 avril 2008. Ce verdict fut cassé le 21 juillet 2010 par la cour d'appel du TPIY, qui ordonna sa remise en détention en raison de soupçons de pressions sur des témoins. À quelques semaines de l'ouverture du premier procès, en février 2007, un témoin crucial, issu de la communauté rom du Kosovo, Kujtim Berisha, avait été fauché par une voiture dans une rue de Podgorica, au Monténégro. M. Haradinaj fut de nouveau acquitté en novembre 2012.

Menaces, chantage ou violences physiques ne sont pas réservés aux témoins eux-mêmes, mais s'étendent à leurs proches. Résultat : de nombreuses personnes entendues par l'accusation refusent de se présenter à l'audience ou se rétractent à la barre. Agim Zogaj devait témoigner dans le procès mené contre M. Limaj par la mission Eulex. Ancien chef de la police militaire de la 121e brigade de l'UÇK, il fut le chef de la prison clandestine de Kleçkë/Klečka, où plusieurs civils albanais et serbes auraient été détenus, torturés et assassinés en 1998 et 1999, sous les ordres de M. Limaj. Il a été retrouvé pendu dans un parc de Duisbourg, en Allemagne, le 27 septembre 2011. Même si l'hypothèse du suicide n'a pas été officiellement écartée, sa famille a dénoncé les très vives pressions dont il faisait l'objet (11). Le témoignage écrit qu'il a laissé, accablant pour M. Limaj, n'a pas été retenu par les juges.

Quelques semaines après M. Marty, le député monégasque Jean-Charles Gardetto présentait un rapport devant l'Assemblée parlementaire du Conseil de l'Europe sur ce sujet brûlant de la protection des témoins (12). Il nous déclarait alors que celle-ci était « particulièrement difficile » dans un petit pays comme le Kosovo, où tout le monde se connaît. Il jugeait illusoire de se contenter de réinstaller ces témoins dans d'autres villes et régions que les leurs, tandis que leur accueil dans des pays tiers ne pouvait guère être envisagé à grande échelle (13).

L'entrée en fonction des chambres spécialisées s'est longtemps fait attendre, alimentant les doutes. Seraient-elles en mesure de juger des responsables de premier plan ou ne feraient-elles comparaître que des exécutants ? Les premières mises en accusation sont de nature à dissiper ces craintes. Pour autant, les chambres spécialisées réussiront-elles là où le TPIY a échoué, en faisant reconnaître l'impérieuse nécessité de la justice transitionnelle ? M. Negoman Marić, responsable de l'association des familles des disparus serbes de Rahovec/Orahovac, a perdu toute confiance en la justice et n'accepte qu'à contrecœur de répondre aux questions des journalistes. Pour lui, ces arrestations arrivent trop tard, plus de vingt ans après les faits, alors que beaucoup de témoins ont disparu. Les inculpés accepteront-ils enfin de parler ? Des « initiés » et des « repentis » auront-ils le courage de témoigner ? La société du Kosovo a certainement encore beaucoup de chemin à faire pour se réconcilier avec son passé et accepter de reconnaître les crimes commis par certains au nom de la lutte de libération.

Voir en ligne : /2020/12/DERENS/62566

(1) Audience de première comparution, chambres spécialisées pour le Kosovo, La Haye, 28 septembre 2020.

(2) Dick Marty, « Le traitement inhumain de personnes et le trafic illicite d'organes humains au Kosovo », rapport n° 12462, Assemblée parlementaire du Conseil de l'Europe, Strasbourg, 7 janvier 2011.

(3) Lire Jean-Arnault Dérens, « Au Kosovo, la “sale guerre” de l'UÇK », Le Monde diplomatique, mars 2011.

(4) « Human rights in Kosovo : As seen, as told », vol. II, 14 juin — 31 octobre 1999, OSCE, Vienne, 5 novembre 1999.

(5) Carla Del Ponte (avec Chuck Sudetic), La Traque, les criminels de guerre et moi, Éditions Héloïse d'Ormesson, Paris, 2009.

(6) Lire « Trafic d'organes au Kosovo : un rapport accablant », La valise diplomatique.

(7) Nathalie Duclos, Courtiers de la paix. Les vétérans au cœur du statebuilding international au Kosovo, CNRS Éditions, Paris, 2018.

(8) Sur le conflit, lire notre dossier en ligne « Vingt ans après, les plaies ouvertes du Kosovo », mars 2019.

(9) Cf. « Kosovo. Les fantômes d'une guerre de gauche », La Revue du crieur, n° 12, Paris, février 2019.

(10) Lire Ana Otašević, « Faillite de la mission européenne au Kosovo », Le Monde diplomatique, juin 2015.

(11) Jean Daville, « Crimes de guerre et protection des témoins au Kosovo : “Eulex m'a tuer” », Le Courrier des Balkans, 3 octobre 2011.

(12) « La protection des témoins : pierre angulaire de la justice et de la réconciliation dans les Balkans », résolution n° 1784 de l'Assemblée parlementaire du Conseil de l'Europe, 26 janvier 2011.

(13) Propos recueillis par Jean-Arnault Dérens, Le Courrier des Balkans, 26 janvier 2011.

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Bonus episode: The EU enlargement game

What happens if your economy is suddenly in crisis, Brussels offers help with strings attached—and Turkey, China or Russia can move faster? What if your country delivers every reform the EU asks for, only for a member state to block the next step anyway? And after years of waiting, would voters still choose to join?

In this special bonus episode, The Neighbourhood goes live from Lisbon for an EU enlargement game. Jessica Hendrick brings together RE-ENGAGE experts representing six EU candidate countries and throws a series of fictional—but very plausible—political and economic shocks at them inspired by real headlines: Russia’s intensified attacks on Ukrainian infrastructure, Ireland’s EU presidency push on enlargement, Iceland’s referendum, Germany’s regional elections and the upcoming 2026 Enlargement Package. Drawing on three years of surveys, interviews and crisis simulations, each expert has to answer for their country.

Playing for each country:

  • Albania: Morten Bøås, research professor at the Norwegian Institute of International Affairs (NUPI), representing RE-ENGAGE’s Albanian partners at the European University of Tirana
  • Bosnia and Herzegovina: Damir Kapidžić, director of the Institute for Social Science Research at the University of Sarajevo
  • Georgia: Ketevan Bolkvadze, senior lecturer in the department of political science at Lund University, originally from Georgia
  • Moldova: Mathilde T. E. Giske, research fellow at the Norwegian Institute of International Affairs (NUPI), representing RE-ENGAGE’s Moldovan partners at Moldova State University
  • Serbia: Luka Filipović, research associate at the Institute for Contemporary History in Serbia
  • Ukraine: Roman Petrov, president of the Ukrainian European Studies Association

The result is part enlargement simulation, part policy conversation and part game night. The experts bargain over a fictional €100 million EU cheque, decide whether the EU can compete with faster offers from other powers, test how easily disinformation could exploit frustration with enlargement, and imagine what would happen if EU membership was finally put to a public vote. Along the way, Serbia proposes keeping its relationship with Brussels “casual”, Bosnia finds a creative use for €100 million, and Ukraine calls for Hungarian “Varangians” when backsliding strikes.

When a crisis hits, does speed matter more than values? Can “Europe never wanted you anyway” become a winning political message? And if a country finally joins the EU, what stops democracy from sliding backwards once the prize of membership is secured?

Further reading:
RE-ENGAGE research overview
RE-ENGAGE research on Albania
RE-ENGAGE research on Bosnia and Herzegovina
RE-ENGAGE research on Georgia
RE-ENGAGE research on Moldova
RE-ENGAGE research on Serbia
RE-ENGAGE research on Ukraine

This podcast was recorded live in Lisbon on September 3rd, 2026.

Source

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