Balkans: The latest Balkan leader accused of war crimes was a tough soldier but a political liberal, writes Chris Stephen
Ramush Haradinaj was one of the toughest commanders in the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA), the guerrilla force that took on the Serbs in the hills and forests of this southern Yugoslav province.
I never met Haradinaj but I heard a lot about him when reporting the Kosovo war for The Irish Times between 1998 and 1999. His region was the most important for the whole KLA war effort because supplies for the guerrillas came across the mountains from Albania and his men had to hold open the mountain passes.
Haradinaj was effective and popular with his men, directing them on hit-and-run attacks with the Serbs and ensuring, despite heavy battles, that supplies always got through.
But the war in the West had its dark side too: the media were at the time more focused on atrocities against ethnic Albanian civilians, but Serbs suffered too.
In September 1998 the bodies of 34 civilians, mostly Serb but including some Albanians, were found dumped in a small lake near the village of Glojane. They had apparently been kidnapped and executed, with human rights officials speculating that the Albanians among them were collaborators. Who was responsible was never clear: the west was a confused region, with not just the Armed Forces of the Republic of Kosovo but several other forces, some little more than bandits, also operating.
When Nato took control in the summer of 1999, Haradinaj's men briefly occupied the western region, refusing permission for Serbs to return, in a policy one soldier told me was "zero tolerance". Serbs would not be harmed but they would not be allowed back. Again, it was impossible to say if this was the commander's diktat or simply the idea of a subordinate.
But soon Haradinaj swapped battledress for a business suit, forming a party - the Alliance for Kosovo's Future. His own future as a politician seemed in doubt when, late in 2000, he and a brother attacked the home of a rival clan, fighting with guns and grenades. Both men were wounded in the attack, and Haradinaj, to many people's surprise, was flown out by Nato for treatment at a US army hospital in Germany.
Nato's generosity was for a reason. One diplomat told me that Haradinaj, a tough guy in battle, was a liberal politically, and was preferred to another former KLA man, Hasim Thaci.
The West's strategy was to split the KLA vote between the two men, so that a third politician, pacifist Ibrahim Rugova, would have a chance to win a majority of votes. The move worked and, last October, Rugova won Kosovo's first parliamentary elections.
There is no love lost between Rugova and the KLA, so it was a surprise when, in November, Rugova and Haradinaj announced a coalition, excluding Thaci, that saw Haradinaj crowned prime minister.
The West, for once, could feel satisfied. In office, Haradinaj made all the right noises about finding compromise with the ethnic Serb minority in the province.
His indictment risks tearing this careful fabric asunder. This month is the anniversary of last year's inter-ethnic riots in which 19 people died and, without Haradinaj's steady hand, more trouble may now follow.
Some international officials are furious with war crimes prosecutors. "They're risking the stability of Kosovo, full stop," said Duncan Bullivant, a former adviser to the international administrators in the province. "Haradinaj was beginning to carve out a reputation for himself as a hard-working prime minister."
The charges against Haradinaj have yet to be made public so there is no way of judging the case against him.
However, the timing is terrible. If he had to be indicted, it would have been easier to do so earlier, before he became prime minister.
Instead, the result may be that a trial process designed to bring peace and stability to a war-ravaged zone may now produce exactly the opposite effect.