An anniversary of shame and failure

Today, we commemorate an anniversary of terrible, unmitigated shame. On 11 July 1995, the Muslim enclave of Srebrenica fell to the Bosnian Serbs. In the days that followed, scenes of "unimaginable savagery" (in the words of the United Nations war crimes tribunal in the Hague) took place. Lest we forget what that means, read the judge's summary, and pause. "Thousands of men executed and buried in mass graves; hundreds of men buried alive; men and women mutilated and slaughtered; children killed before their mothers' eyes; a grandfather forced to eat the liver of his own grandson."

In short (again, in the words of the war crimes tribunal) these were "scenes from hell, written on the darkest pages of human history." The West did nothing to prevent the horror. Dutch UN peacekeepers stood by while the massacre was taking place. They are hardly to be blamed - they never received the necessary support from the UN command, which might have enabled them to act. In the days leading up to the massacre, the Dutch requested close air support to prevent the Bosnian Serbs attacking what was laughably described as a "UN-protected" enclave. The request was rejected as "not worth the risk".

The fall of Srebrenica and the massacre that followed were an abdication of responsibility by the international community - made worse by the fact that government leaders knew that they could not fulfil the promises that they had made so blithely, when Srebrenica was declared a "safe haven". That phrase sounds hollow now; it sounded hollow then as well.

We should not be lulled into the almost-comfortable thought that this was a one-off. Srebrenica represented the worst single set of atrocities committed during the wars in former Yugoslavia. But it was no more atypical than Auschwitz was atypical of Nazi Germany. The question for this anniversary day is about our responsibility, for governments in the West seem determined, even now, to avoid facing up to their share in what happened. Last week we suggested as an example of new aphorisms and commandments to guide conduct in a post-Christian age Edmund Burke's precept, "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing". That could serve as a commentary on the war in Bosnia. The good men of the West did nothing and see what evil followed.

But now, surely, for some better news. The Hague tribunal, which has done its best in difficult circumstances, is likely to issue international arrest warrants today against Radovan Karadzic, (still-) president of the Bosnian Serbs, and Ratko Mladic, the military commander. Both men are charged with genocide. And yet neither man is anywhere near being brought to justice. A form of arrest warrant is already in force - which both have cheerfully ignored. President Slobodan Milosevic of Serbia, whom Western leaders have been eager to embrace as "crucial to the peace process", is happy to let the wanted men visit Belgrade, the capital of a sovereign state which aspires to all the appurtenances of the community of nations. There was not a murmur of rebuke from that community.

Why? Is it Realpolitik or, worse, the lethargy of diplomacy which would rather live with an embarrassing situation than move to serve justice? Admiral Leighton Smith, commander of

I-For, the Nato implementation force in Bosnia, complained this week that he has too few powers to arrest Bosnia's most wanted men: Mr Karadzic is so sickeningly cocksure that he has sent him lunch invitations.

Throughout the wars in Yugoslavia, the Western powers have been so frightened of being caught up - embroiled - that they have repeatedly refused to take action until it was far too late. Absurdly, British officials started crowing about "diplomatic triumph" after convening a talking-shop in London just as the war got under way in 1992. Britain has led in urging caution. Britain continued to beat the old "ancient hatreds" drum as a way of excusing the failure to act. Even as those "scenes from hell" were still being played out in Srebrenica (and it was known what was happening, even then), Foreign Secretary Malcolm Rifkind was calling for the Bosnian Serbs to "behave in a more civilised fashion". Mr Karadzic and General Mladic no doubt trembled at Mr Rifkind's stern words. He should heed the old adage: put up or shut up.

The indictments for genocide did seem to indicate a new willingness to act. And yet the body language in Whitehall still suggests little enthusiasm for laying hands on the accused. If Mr Karadzic and Mr Mladic flew in to Heathrow tomorrow, one suspects that there would be consternation in Downing Street. If arrested, the two men could rightly ask: "If the case against us was so overwhelming, why did you not say so at the time?" Answer: "If we had talked about genocide, while it was still happening, we would have had no excuse for allowing it to continue." Hence, the official near- silence until after the killing was over. That silence was justified, it was said, because investigation and prosecution of war crimes took second place to the pursuit of peace. But now peace is in place, only rigorous action to uncover the truth and identify the guilty will do.

Over Srebrenica, the much-vaunted "pragmatism" is little more than a synonym for short-sightedness. It is not just morally but also politically wrong. Europe failed Bosnia miserably; it failed most obviously a year ago today. If Britain and other Western countries fail, even now, to admit their shared responsibility for what went wrong, then it seems certain that equally hideous events lie ahead.