Impatient Kosovo Albanians Press For a Declaration of Independence

MEDEVCE, Serbia -- Past cornfields and gentle hills in hard-luck corners of Kosovo that politicians rarely see, Veton Surroi was mobilizing support for independence. On foot. The time to negotiate is nearly through, he repeated in ethnic Albanian homes that still bore battle scars. Independence is never freely given. It must be claimed.

In the farming village of Medevce, mile nine on a recent dawn-to-dusk hike, he made his pitch to a few local men on the cushioned floor of a small stone house. With the electricity out, they sipped mud-black coffee by the soft light of a curtained window. Sweat soaked their shirts in the 90-degree heat.

"We are giving politics a chance, but nothing seems to be changing," said Surroi, who hopes to spur his government to break a long deadlock and make Kosovo Europe's newest sovereign state. "There is a lot we have to do. If we got independence tomorrow, what is most important to you?"

"We need independence to develop the country," said Bajram Kastrati, 70, a gourd farmer. "I'm not talking about politics, I'm talking about everyday life. We can't get a good price for our vegetables. Our factory closed. We don't have electricity. I ask you this, on all your journey, did you meet anyone happy with how we are being governed?"

Surroi silently shook his head. No.

Kosovo, the last territory of the former Yugoslavia to seek statehood, has been a U.N. protectorate since 1999, when 78 days of NATO bombing drove out Slobodan Milosevic's Serb-dominated Yugoslav army. The territory is still technically a province of Serbia.

This summer, after years of negotiations, Kosovo's roughly 2 million residents -- mostly ethnic Albanians with a 10 percent Serb minority -- are again in limbo. The ethnic Albanian political leadership, anxious for independence, has reluctantly agreed to 120 more days of bargaining with Serbia, creating a new deadline in December.

Surroi, an Albanian who is part of the team of local officials negotiating the province's future, wants Kosovo to declare independence when the deadline expires, with or without an agreement. Such a move, which is gaining advocates among Albanians as the standoff continues, could inflame Kosovo's Serbs and the government in Belgrade, capital of Serbia, which sees Kosovo as part of its historical and religious heritage.

At stake, Surroi says, is escape from foreign rule and from the economic stagnation that has prevailed since Serb troops departed. "No one wants to invest in a country with an uncertain future," he said. "And no country was ever given independence without taking it."

But the territory's Serbs bitterly oppose any separation from Serbia. "I'd rather leave in a coffin than live in an Albanian state, and everyone I know feels this way," said Boris Drobac, 33, a bank employee in a cowboy hat, who sipped beer one recent afternoon at a cafe in Mitrovica, where the Ibar River forms a natural Berlin Wall between the two communities. "They say World War I started because of the Serbs. Well, World War III might start the same way, if the Albanians are not careful."

Officials here dismiss such statements as posturing. But none express optimism that the impasse will soon be overcome.

"The people of Kosovo have been mature throughout this process, and they will conclude the process with maturity," Fatmir Sejdiu, an Albanian and president of Kosovo's provisional government, said in a recent interview in the capital, Pristina. "That said, the Serbs have tried their best to drag out the process. We will not accept anything short of independence with the full territory of Kosovo intact."