The air strikes taking place nightly over Yugoslavia conform to the history of the relationship between the Balkans and the West, stretching back more than a 100 years. As so often in the past, Western Europe pronounces on high principles and dictates peace deals, but remains reluctant to enforce these deals. And, just as during the last century, the Balkans are not seen as just a geographic area, but as a disease which needs to be quarantined, but which somehow always defies a cure.
The Balkans' experience is unique in Europe. The region straddled three empires, and was the subject of a constant competition for spheres of influence. Territorial claims were worsened by a bewildering patchwork of nationalities all seeking independence, a legacy of economic backwardness and corrupt as well as incompetent national administrations left over from the times of the Ottoman empire. The Balkans generated two regional wars in 1912 and 1913, and were directly responsible for the first world conflagration in 1914.
But a closer inspection of the region's history reveals a more complicated and not always depressing image. The Balkans have had their share of bloodshed. Yet this was never on the scale experienced in the centre of the European continent, at least not in sheer numbers of victims. The people of the region also suffered many dictators. Nor are the Balkans devoid of culture: Bulgaria is the cradle of the Slav tradition and Orthodox religion (as well as the inventor of the cyrillic alphabet), while Romania's cultural links go back to ancient Rome. In short, these are not tinpot countries which just happen to be on the European continent, they are part and parcel of our own spiritual inheritance. More importantly, it was precisely the competition between Western European powers which generated many of the wars in the Balkans this century.
So, what makes the Balkans still unique? Clearly the chief responsibility for the current disaster must lie with local leaders. But the West shares some responsibility for insisting that they apply policies which never had the slightest chances of working. Throughout the last century the main European powers were against the independence aspirations of the local populations, mainly in order to preserve the Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empires, but also because they did not believe that the "little people" of the Balkans deserved independence. The Kosovo problem was created in London earlier this century, largely as part of a desire to make sure the ethnic Albanians did not enjoy a too powerful state.
The people of the Balkans triumphed, however, and, in the process, developed a peculiar mentality of deceit: they came to various peace conferences, pretended to accept what was demanded of them and ultimately did exactly the opposite. At least in this respect, therefore, President Milosevic's defiance follows the traditional local pattern.
Even at the height of the Cold War nobody could control the Balkans: the Soviet Union gradually lost control over Yugoslavia, Albania and Romania, while the West barely contained the perennial Greek-Turkish rows, despite the fact that both were NATO members and therefore, at least formally, allies. And the region ended up in this situation because local leaders swiftly realised that, while the West could huff and puff, it was never prepared to seriously engage in the Balkans; the costs for doing so were huge, while the advantages appeared too small.
Despite the current violence, the Balkans are now quite peaceful. Ethnic Turks and Hungarians are part of the ruling coalitions in both Bulgaria and Romania, respectively, and a new government in Macedonia is now kind to its own Albanian minority. The Greeks and Turks are still arguing, but they are doing so while respecting unwritten rules which are keeping them away from open confrontation.
The reality is that, even by Balkan standards Yugoslavia was always a unique case, a country in which no nation had a majority, a state which has been created twice this century but which has collapsed on both occasions with terrible consequences. Yugoslavia's Slobodan Milosevic was not the only leader to resort to nationalism.
Mr Milosevic is fully aware of Western military power and international opinion. The fact that he is now considered an international ogre matters little to him; indeed, his international isolation probably enhances his stature at home, by playing on all the Serb senses of inferiority and historic myths. In reality, Mr Milosevic's handling of the West is based on a set of practical assumptions. As a child of the cold war and the product of a brutal society, he never believed that Western governments would sacrifice strategic interests for "sentimental" humanitarian reasons. As all Balkan leaders, he assumes that his region is of pivotal importance and, once the horrid pictures of the massacres disappear from the television screens, Western leaders would come to him for support. Secondly, Mr Milosevic evidently believes the current state of cooperation between Western governments and between the West and Russia cannot last much longer.
For the good of an entire continent Mr Milosevic must be defeated. Yet victory for Europe rests not only on removing a blood-stained dictator, but also on integrating the peaceful countries of the region immediately thereafter. If the air strikes are followed by a Western military presence on the ground, the punishment of war criminals and economic reconstruction, the tragic history of the Balkans will be over.
Jonathan Eyal is Director of Studies at the Royal United Services Institute in London