Bosnia Herzegovina Economy

Seeking ways to meet goals of the 1995 Dayton peace accord, Bosnian leaders and U.S. diplomats on Saturday recommended a commission to fight corruption and sought more aggressive NATO pursuit of war criminals. The announcement came after two days of private talks following up on the agreement that ended fighting four years ago but left Bosnia-Herzegovina divided among ethnic groups, with a weak economy and millions of refugees. U.S.

A Lipizzaner horse is born to be proud, to step smartly and hold its head high, which isn't easy in this isolated bastion of hard-line Serbian nationalism. A healthy Lipizzaner is such a mighty charger that when the breed faced extinction in World War II, Gen. George S. Patton ordered the rescue of mares and foals that German troops had stolen.

For 3 1/2 years, as he manned a mortar position near the front line, Eldar Mujezinovic was obsessed with one thing--survival. But now, as his confidence grows in the prospects for peace in the former Yugoslav federation, Mujezinovic is plagued by a new worry. "During all that time, I had only one thought on my mind: How do I keep myself--and my son--alive?" Mujezinovic, 28, said, gesturing toward his 3-year-old son, who was born underground during the height of the shelling in Tuzla.

Seeking ways to meet goals of the 1995 Dayton peace accord, Bosnian leaders and U.S. diplomats on Saturday recommended a commission to fight corruption and sought more aggressive NATO pursuit of war criminals. The announcement came after two days of private talks following up on the agreement that ended fighting four years ago but left Bosnia-Herzegovina divided among ethnic groups, with a weak economy and millions of refugees. U.S.

A passenger train sputtered out of Sarajevo on Tuesday, reopening a key north-south railway and prospects of an economic recovery in Bosnia after 3 1/2 years of war. Bosnian officials and foreign diplomats boarded the five-coach train headed for the Adriatic port of Ploce, Croatia, after a ceremony in which Bosnian President Alija Izetbegovic proclaimed: "This, today, is the second opening of the city."

On one side of Bosnia's postwar divide, teenage survivors of the siege of this city skate through what was once a military bunker and is now a booming underground mall. Shoppers browse air-conditioned boutiques and sporting-goods stores, selecting beachwear for their first vacations in years. Some venture into the bigger showrooms, looking to replace cars and appliances destroyed by almost four years of ethnic slaughter.

It was a lesson in free-market economics that might make the most seasoned capitalist proud. Onetime enemy soldiers Ahmet Colic and Milenko Vukovic sat shoulder to shoulder atop a flatbed truck parked at a muddy roadside market here. Their legs dangled from huge sacks of Canadian sugar stacked four deep and four wide. Colic hadn't moved a bag all day, and he was getting antsy. Vukovic, joining his newfound friend for a smoke, suggested upping the price.

By every measure, the Internet Cafe here is a wild success. Sales are enormous. Tables and the bar are packed night after night with high-spending customers. Lunches and Sunday brunch are standing-room only. Business in Bosnia just doesn't get any better than this. So why is cafe owner Morgan Sowden, a Briton, bailing out? "Either I cheat or I give up," he says.

A Lipizzaner horse is born to be proud, to step smartly and hold its head high, which isn't easy in this isolated bastion of hard-line Serbian nationalism. A healthy Lipizzaner is such a mighty charger that when the breed faced extinction in World War II, Gen. George S. Patton ordered the rescue of mares and foals that German troops had stolen.

By every measure, the Internet Cafe here is a wild success. Sales are enormous. Tables and the bar are packed night after night with high-spending customers. Lunches and Sunday brunch are standing-room only. Business in Bosnia just doesn't get any better than this. So why is cafe owner Morgan Sowden, a Briton, bailing out? "Either I cheat or I give up," he says.

On one side of Bosnia's postwar divide, teenage survivors of the siege of this city skate through what was once a military bunker and is now a booming underground mall. Shoppers browse air-conditioned boutiques and sporting-goods stores, selecting beachwear for their first vacations in years. Some venture into the bigger showrooms, looking to replace cars and appliances destroyed by almost four years of ethnic slaughter.

It was a lesson in free-market economics that might make the most seasoned capitalist proud. Onetime enemy soldiers Ahmet Colic and Milenko Vukovic sat shoulder to shoulder atop a flatbed truck parked at a muddy roadside market here. Their legs dangled from huge sacks of Canadian sugar stacked four deep and four wide. Colic hadn't moved a bag all day, and he was getting antsy. Vukovic, joining his newfound friend for a smoke, suggested upping the price.

A passenger train sputtered out of Sarajevo on Tuesday, reopening a key north-south railway and prospects of an economic recovery in Bosnia after 3 1/2 years of war. Bosnian officials and foreign diplomats boarded the five-coach train headed for the Adriatic port of Ploce, Croatia, after a ceremony in which Bosnian President Alija Izetbegovic proclaimed: "This, today, is the second opening of the city."

For 3 1/2 years, as he manned a mortar position near the front line, Eldar Mujezinovic was obsessed with one thing--survival. But now, as his confidence grows in the prospects for peace in the former Yugoslav federation, Mujezinovic is plagued by a new worry. "During all that time, I had only one thought on my mind: How do I keep myself--and my son--alive?" Mujezinovic, 28, said, gesturing toward his 3-year-old son, who was born underground during the height of the shelling in Tuzla.