We all know why the Socialist Federated Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRY) disintegrated and why the War of Yugoslav Succession (1991–1995) broke out. It was all because of Milošević/Tudjman/“the Slovenes”/communists/organized crime/Western states/the Vatican–Comintern conspiracy, who planned it all by himself/themselves in order to advance his own personal/Serbian/Slovenian/American/Vatican interests—your choice. Or again—it all happened because of local bad traditions/economic problems/structural issues/system illegitimacy/legitimate grievances/illegitimate grievances/the long shadow of the past. Or again—it really started in 1389/1463/1878/1918/1941/1986/1987/1989/1990/1991—your pick. Of course, we all know that both the breakup and the war were completely avoidable/inevitable, don't we? And best of all, we all know that the real villain(s) in this drama can only be Milošević/Tudjman/“the Serbs”/“the Slovenes”/“the Croats”/“the Muslims”/Germany/Balkan peoples generally/the Great Powers, who must be held (exclusively/jointly) responsible for most of the killing, though some of us also know that all parties were equally guilty. Well, maybe we all know what caused the Yugoslav troubles, but it seems that we “know” different things.

The argument to be presented here is that the Yugoslav meltdown involved three factors or sets of factors: first, the various underlying problems such as economic deterioration, political illegitimacy, and structural factors which drove the system toward crisis; second, the presence and persistence of inter-ethnic resentments deriving from irreconcilable national historical narratives in which Yugoslavia's constituent peoples cast each other as “the Enemy” (usually across the Serb–non-Serb cleavage) and specifically stoked by certain ambitious political figures; and third, the emergence, in Serbia, of a national “revitalization movement” led by Slobodan Milošević, nurturing grandiose territorial fantasies. I shall also argue that understanding the Serb national awakening of the late 1980s as a “revitalization movement” helps to understand the nature of what happened in Serbia, in particular how Serb nationalists could construe their initiatives as responses to some perceived threat coming from outside the community of Serbs, the phases in the development of that movement, and its role in impelling socialist Yugoslavia toward breakup and meltdown.

The mobilisation of Kosovo Serbs, barely noticeable from the capital initially but highly visible at the centre political stage between 1986 and 1988, played an important part in the political struggles of the late socialist Yugoslavia. The prevailing view in the literature is that Kosovo Serbs were little more then passive recipients of the attitudes and actions of high officials and dissident intellectuals. The elite thesis says that Belgrade-based dissident intellectuals initiated and guided the mobilisation of Kosovo Serbs, aiming to undermine the party's approach to Yugoslavia's national question and to initiate reassessment of the official policy on Kosovo and Serb–Albanian relations. According to the thesis, Milošević then took over and orchestrated the action of various groups of Kosovo Serbs in order to make the case for the removal of Kosovo's autonomy. The intellectuals and Milošević have generally supported this interpretation, claiming their role in the events leading to the constitutional change to the disadvantage of Kosovo Albanians in 1989–1990.

This article examines the origins of the nonviolent resistance movement in Kosovo in the early 1990s, with the purpose of explaining the dynamics that led to the emergence of the so-called “parallel state” of Kosovo Albanians.

One of the many controversies that survived the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina concerns the responsibility for several of the most deadly artillery attacks against civilians during the three-year siege of Sarajevo. Although indiscriminate artillery fire accounted for a small fraction of the total civilian deaths during the war, graphic video footage of the mass slaughter exercised a disproportionate effect on world public opinion and, therefore, on Western policymakers who felt constrained to “do something.” On at least three occasions, individual artillery explosions in the Bosnian capital prompted immediate international intervention that substantially determined the course and resolution of the conflict. The persistence of controversy is informed by a combination of factors, including the substantial consequences of the Western response, the inconclusiveness of some of the forensic data, and the conflicting statements of civilian survivors, journalists, spokesmen for the belligerents, and U.N. officials—all of whom have been accused of some degree of bias by one side or another. Nearly a decade later, testimony and forensic evidence presented at the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) has shed new light on these incidents, presenting a more comprehensive and authoritative historical baseline account of the “mortar massacres,” much as it has for a plethora of criminal acts committed by all sides during the wars of Yugoslav succession. The Tribunal recently released documentation detailing some of the mortar attacks that occurred in the city of Sarajevo, including forensic reports compiled by the U.N. Protection Force (UNPROFOR) which had not been previously made public. The bulk of this information is contained in the Tribunal Judgment and corresponding Dissenting Opinion of the former commander of the Sarajevo Romanija Corps (SRK), Major General Stanislav Galić. Although the reliability of judicial testimony and other evidence is invariably limited by the abilities and resources of both the prosecution and defense, the trial transcript has cleared away at least some of the fog of war, making it somewhat less difficult to apportion responsibility for the disputed attacks. This article integrates the Galić transcript with earlier, wartime U.N. documentation, press releases, and media reports, supplemented by interviews conducted by the authors with military experts familiar with the characteristics of the weaponry employed by the besiegers. It also endeavors to place the most notorious incidents in the broader context presented by the multiplicity of artillery attacks that took place in urban areas across Bosnia between 1992 and 1995.

Thousands of books have been written on Yugoslavia's dissolution and the wars that followed in the 1990s. Most of them, however, deal with relations among the main ethno-nations of Yugoslavia, i.e., Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, Bosniaks (Muslims), Montenegrins, Macedonians and Albanians, and the effects on them of the dissolution and wars. Hungarians and Italians of Yugoslavia also suffered, and the wars affected their destiny; but these peoples have rarely been mentioned in the context of this history. It is the aim of this article to fill the gap.

The trial of former Yugoslav President Slobodan Milošević before the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) in The Hague is a vehicle both for achieving justice and for pursuing historical truth. At this first-ever trial of a former head of state before an international tribunal, the same evidence serves two purposes: the quests for “truth” by those involved in the judicial process, on one side, and those engaged in academic historical interpretation, on the other. In each sphere, there are expectations to be satisfied. Those of the peoples of Serbia and the other former Yugoslav lands, international governmental and non-governmental actors, and observers are all different from each other; and they are all distinct from the viewpoint of future students of history. The two frameworks for truth are neither necessarily competitive nor complementary, and the tests of their validity may differ. But the raw material they use may be identical and the outcome of each may be parallel and consistent. And the two varieties of truth may reinforce one another in the quest to restore peace and security, to establish justice, and to compile a broadly accepted account of contentious, awful events.

As nations emerge from repressive regimes and societies begin to rebuild following violent intranational conflict, the notion of “facing the past” has become an increasingly important and pressing issue. How should new regimes address the crimes of their predecessors? How should societies deal with individuals who committed grave crimes against humanity? Who should be held responsible for what happened during the dark periods of violence and war?