The cruise missiles which destroyed the two interior ministry buildings in Belgrade on Holy Saturday night marked a turning point in the war. There had been a week of doubts in the media headlines. The correspondence columns of quality newspapers showed opposition to the bombardment and disbelief as to its ultimate effectiveness. Targets were not being hit because of weather problems.
There must have been tense debates between NATO politicians and generals. The military version of the political adage "don't throw good money after bad" is "never reinforce failure". These must have been at the back of political and military minds.
That Saturday, for good or ill, the nerves of the key NATO politicians and military officers held. The target ministries were metres from an obstetric hospital. The decision to launch eight cruise missiles was either an act of supreme confidence in the missiles' accuracy or a startling gamble.
In the event, the ministries were destroyed and the hospital was undamaged except for some broken glass. Had the hospital been hit, public opinion in the West might have made further bombardment unacceptable.
People were shocked that such an attack would be made: up to then the targets were largely military ones, away from populated areas. But success hardened NATO's determination and sense of urgency. Civilian infrastructure "capable of helping the Serb forces" is now being attacked.
This is an elastic concept. "Collateral damage" must rise, as this week's hit on a train shows. The Western public's sense of shock has lapsed into a dull acceptance of the steady escalation. Monday night's strike on a barracks in Belgrade also damaged a (military) hospital 50 metres away. As in the second World War, the unthinkable becomes the norm all too easily.
Another factor spurring drastic action is the credibility of NATO. When the Srebrenica killings "darkened the sun" in 1995, people began to have doubts. NATO struck to relieve Sarajevo at last.
During the Sarajevo siege one wondered: suppose the Russians, instead of launching the expected Cold War attack across the Fulda Gap in Germany, had started with nibbles at a bit of north Norway or Denmark, with local communist support and assurances that the aim was limited. Would the West have got its act together quickly enough?
Extrapolation, however theoretical, from the inactivity at Sarajevo and Srebrenica would be dangerous for NATO. A failure in Kosovo might have the same result.
What of the refugees? The propaganda stakes are high but, if accounts are true, the expulsion of the Kosovans seems self-financing. The men in balaclavas take money and jewellery from the people they order out. Masked anonymity, loot, burning and opportunities for rape would ensure the willing participation of the dregs of a society. Decent Serbs are going to be appalled that such things are done in their name.
The military maxim that a commander is "responsible for what his subordinates do or fail to do" is a rough but useful one here. The people in the chain of command up to President Milosevic should be given some reason to worry about it.
But how to undo ethnic cleansing? NATO will persist with bombardment, backed, if reluctantly, by public opinion which is also moving towards acceptance of an inevitable ground intervention. The expulsion horrors drive public opinion. The new firepower and US reservist call-ups seem accepted.
The Albanian government is making airfield and port facilities available to NATO. The port of Durres has limited facilities compared to the Greek port of Thessaloniki (Salonika). The roads through Albania are poor. US engineering energy and ingenuity can transform matters but time and refugee misery press.
After the "pyramid" frauds in Albania in 1997, between 750,000 and 1,000,000 "light" weapons (pistols machine-guns, mortars, 200,000 rifles) were looted from government arsenals. To the concern of European police forces, these rifles have appeared on black markets. Kosovan Albanians have got many of them.
A NATO ground move into Kosovo accompanied by Albanian guerrillas might make it difficult for the Serbs to play Tito's long-prepared ace: decentralised guerrilla warfare. But a classic objection to guerrilla warfare is that it places weapons in irresponsible hands. NATO could reap a whirlwind.
Under Tito's arrangements, a well-equipped, professional Yugoslav People's Army (YPA) was under federal control. Trained conscripts returned to their home republics and reserve service under their republic's president, who also controlled their arms. The large arms industry was similarly decentralised. Republics were to continue fighting autonomously if the YPA was defeated.
On paper these were sound, innovative plans. They depended on a cohesive, homogeneous population. In the ethnic disunity of Yugoslavia, the system was lethally flawed.
Col E.D. Doyle is a former Army officer who also saw service with the United Nations.
