Macedonia is a land of contrasts. Skopje, the capital, is a Soviet throwback. Large Stalinist buildings dominate the landscape. The Continental Hotel, where many journalists stay, is a clone of several places I passed through during a stint in Russia seven years ago. A colleague wondered if Brezhnev had previously cleaned his brogues on the formidable shoe-brushing machine in the hall. Bookshops I visited would not have been out of place in Moscow before the glasnost thaw of the mid-1980s: large classical and scientific tomes, nothing too exciting or new. Unemployment is high and the people are not rich, but Skopje has the air of a place that could adjust successfully in time to the norms of a modern European economy, as the more stylish Prague or Budapest have been doing already. In Skopje, you are in Europe; 50 kilometres away in the mountain villages overlooking the city of Tetovo, you are in what politically incorrect people still call the Third World. The people are poor; educational and other facilities are limited; the roads make Skopje seem like Los Angeles. These people are the ethnic Albanians and their grievances could plunge the Balkans once again into war. They are hard to get to: roadblocks manned by heavily-armed members of the Macedonian security forces turned me back, unmoved by my official accreditation from the Ministry of Information. Happily, I was being chauffeured by a determined ethnic Albanian who resembled the young Brendan Behan and had the same devil-may-care, anti-authoritarian instincts as the Dublin writerrebel. Within minutes we were careening along narrow cobbled streets and on to a dirt road where, at one point, we even had to drive through a not-so-shallow stream. After a driving experience worthy of the Wild West, I found myself sitting across a table from a civic elder in one of the Albanian villages who had agreed to an interview. Tea was served first, then the questions started. Vehbi Ismaili's answers were measured and cautious. Though very close to the scene of the latest fighting, the village of Chepshishtai had escaped attack. But refugees from other places in the area had taken shelter there. He estimated there were about 1,000 of them and there was an air of Balkans resignation in the way he described their predicament: "They left their houses, it was too risky to stay because we had a war this week." Were the rebels a spent force, as the Macedonian authorities were hinting after Sunday's all-out government assault on their positions in the neighbouring villages? "I don't have information on that." Were the people angry with the police and army for coming into their villages? "They are afraid of the shooting and the bombardment."
Was this the end of the trouble? "We want it to be the end and to start a dialogue for democracy." He was aware the EU security chief, Javier Solana, had visited Tetovo that morning, met ethnic Albanian leaders, and listened to their grievances.
Could his community get the same rights as the majority in Macedonia? That was a question for one of the Albanian political parties, he said.
The real answer to my last question came from another person at the table, a young village activist who exhaled cynically when he heard it. The activities of the National Liberation Army (NLA) in this region in recent weeks do not indicate a high level of confidence in the ability of the Macedonian political system to address the grievances of its largest minority.
There was apprehension in the West when the government launched its attack on guerrilla outposts last weekend. This was followed by relief when it seemed the attack had achieved its objectives with no reports of fatalities. Taken by surprise, the rebels had fled, leaving their weapons behind them. A second offensive, characterised as a mopping-up operation, began in the middle of the week.
Was this the end of the ethnic Albanian uprising? A supporter of the guerrillas told me: "The war is not finished, just stopped for now because of the danger to civilians. The war will be started again but from another place." The guerrillas claim they are not fighting for secession from Macedonia, only for equal rights, although this is questioned by observers. My guerrilla contact is on message: "It is only a fight for equal rights not for a Greater Kosovo or Greater Albania."
Fears that the Macedonia Albanians will link up with their brothers and sisters in Kosovo and Albania proper to redraw the map of the Balkans have caused a shudder in the chancelleries of Europe. Small wonder that Solana and the NATO secretary-general, Lord Robertson, flew in to hold talks with Macedonia's President Boris Trajkovski this week. It was an indication of the developing EU-NATO relationship that Solana and Robertson took part in a joint news conference afterwards. Having kept the journalists waiting about an hour, they were introduced by President Trajkovski, a burly man in his late 30s or early 40s who delivered a lengthy speech, reminiscent of the Soviet era, about the need to preserve the territorial integrity of Macedonia in the face of terrorist attacks. Lord Robertson was particularly blunt. The people had a choice between a united Macedonia "or another Balkans bloodbath".
The high-powered delegation arriving at the presidential palace included the commander-in-chief of NATO forces in southern Europe, Admiral James Ellis. There was little doubt as to which side NATO and the EU were backing, although there were undertones of anxiety that the Macedonian authorities would employ too much stick and not enough carrot in their dealings with the Albanian minority.
The official figure for the proportion of ethnic Albanians in Macedonia is 22.9 per cent out of a total population of just over two million. Some observers claim the real figure may be as high as 35 per cent. It is not an academic question. Albanians have large families and one estimate suggests they could be a majority of the population by the year 2025.
Statistical uncertainty is a common feature among underprivileged communities. There is also clearly a high degree of fluidity between, say, Albanians in Macedonia and neighbouring Kosovo. One suspects that, up in the mountains, the people do not always know or care which jurisdiction they are in at any given time. The Macedonian authorities say the rebels came over the border from Kosovo. Analogies with Northern Ireland are tempting, with the Macedonian majority in the role of the unionists and ethnic Albanians the equivalent of Northern nationalists. The moderate Albanians who participate in Macedonian political institutions, including the current coalition government, are reminiscent of the SDLP, while the NLA rebels are not unlike the Provisional IRA.
All such analogies must be treated with caution but this one is useful: it points up the dangers if the ethnic Albanians are not drawn irrevocably into the Macedonian political system. Some progress has been made, but there is a long way to go. A government press statement points out that the proportion of Albanians employed in public administration has more than trebled since 1993, although this was from a very low base of only 3 per cent. There is a strong tradition of emigration among Albanians and when they come back, like our own "returned Yanks" of former times, their new-found wealth can arouse resentment among the Slav majority.
It would be a lot easier to solve Macedonia's ethnic problems if the economy were in a healthier state. A special agreement of association with the EU is due to be signed next month and the hope is that a "Balkan Tiger" can transform the place. The accompanying wealth would help ease community tensions. But with a world recession on the horizon, that seems an unduly optimistic scenario.
At the same time, the mood of rebellion among the minority will not be easily assuaged. A refugee from the fighting, a father of 12 children, told me this week: "We want to get our rights which we are entitled to in this democracy, if it is a democracy."