Tell me a about your life growing up. What is your middle name? Where are you from? How did you get interested in law?

My full name is Andrew Tompkins Strong and I am originally from Geneva, Il, a small idyllic western suburb of Chicago, the heart of mainstream America, chalk full of SUV’s. It was actually a tremendous place to grow up. Growing up, however, I spent a good chunk of each summer running around my grandparent’s farm in Barre, Vermont. At this farm, there was 400 acres of a sort of “controlled wilderness” that my siblings and I could explore. It didn’t really operate as a farm, but it did have enough land on which you could get yourself really properly lost and then found again. I bring this up, because I really credit my experiences in Vermont with giving me some perspective that I just don’t think I would have gotten had I stayed continuously in the Midwestern suburbs. It was a bit schizophrenic – suburbia one minute, farmland the next – but as a kid you don’t really notice that stuff and it was certainly worth it. Further, when it came time to pick a college to attend, my familiarity with Vermont made Middlebury College a natural choice. I studied history and music there, and graduated in 2002 after four absolutely wonderful years.

I am 25 and I just completed my first year of law school. My relationship with the law school and law in general has always been a bit tenuous. After graduating Middlebury College I bolted out west. First to San Francisco and then to Los Angeles where I tried equally hard to make a go at playing music and to forget all the heady stuff I had just been exposed to at Middlebury. Unfortunately, both proved very difficult. Music turned into a lark, but not something that I could ever sustain myself with (shocking I know), and as it turned out somewhere along the line I had acquired extremely strong opinions about things. In 2002-03 I think there were a lot of things to feel strongly about. The economy was in rough shape, corporate America was beset with public scandal, and we were invading Iraq. I “felt strongly” about these issues and wanted to “make a difference.” I put the words in quotes because I think just about everyone I’ve ever talked to in my peer group had similar inclinations at that time. That is to say, my thinking was far from groundbreaking.

The problem I had, was actually “effecting change” anywhere. See, you’re just sort of tossed out of college with this idea that you want to change the world, but no one tells you where to start, or how absurdly hard it is to even affect change on a really miniscule level. Like changing the schedule of a little league soccer season. (I’ve never tried, but I bet there’s a lot of hassle involved. And that’s a pretty small change on the relative scale of things.) When I graduated, I had no concept of scale. I was just on a mission. Justice! Truth! Equality! These were the touchstones I was seeking. I read lots of Thomas Friedman, watched Bowling for Columbine, and did relatively…nothing. The problem was that in order effect change you actually needed some plan. What you wanted to change, for instance, is a good start. But I had no practical plan, and as a result I found myself just sort of treading water, unable to get traction in any specific direction, and watching helplessly as events unraveled and I got a little bit older.

To compound this, I realized that as time passes in this manner, opportunities start to funnel. And I think it was the combination of funneling opportunities and a belief that law could give me something practical to use that drew me to it. Even if all it gave me was the clichéd battle cry of law advocates that ‘law can take you anywhere,’ I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned I was going to use it towards my undefined nebulous concept of “effecting change,” and that was that. Law would be my silver bullet. It would allow me to “make a difference.” All in all it wasn’t the most principled or reasonable decision I ever made. I mean I never even thought it through enough to realize that I might end up as a lawyer. But at the worst, I figured it bought me some breathing room to study, which I always enjoyed, and it also gave me something practical to tell relatives about on holidays. (My older brother will complete his degree at Boston University Law School this year, and I’m sure watching the different reactions of my relatives at Christmas-time to his, “I’m studying law at BU” and my, “I’m, uhhh… playing music in Los Angeles.” played some role in my decision.)

So I enrolled at Chicago-Kent School of Law. Its immediate advantage was that if you mumbled it quickly enough in a crowded bar, the person across from you might mistake you for saying University of Chicago Law and think you had some cryptic mystic insights into the interplay of law and economics. Granted this probably isn’t the impression you should be gunning for in a crowded bar but that’s not the point. In truth, I found the classes at Chicago-Kent, for the most part, to be fascinating. The professors were really quite good, but I found that I didn’t connect with a lot of the students. This was entirely my fault. The kids I was surrounded with were all wonderfully nice, pleasant, extremely talented people, but they all really wanted to become lawyers and further, they all had very competent plans laid out to accomplish that goal. Shocking given that it was a law school. For me though, I just wasn’t sure if I actually wanted to be “a lawyer” and with a few exceptions, I spent the most part of my first semester feeling a bit like an odd man out.

One exception that particularly helped me through that first very rough first semester was a professor named Claire Hill. A strikingly brilliant Contracts professor with interests in Economics and Music among a host of other subjects, her class captivated me and she went out her way to encourage me which made a significant difference during that period.

At the end of my first semester, I first heard about Operation Kosovo. A friend of mine was involved and it turned out that he was going to Kosovo for Christmas break. That pretty much blew my mind. How the %$$# is he going to Kosovo? That was my first thought. As it turned out, there was professor at Chicago-Kent, Henry Perritt, who ran a seminar on nation-building and made frequent trips to Prishtina, Kosovo where, as far as I could tell, he basically focused his efforts on being a Good Samaritan. I mean this in the best sense of the word. He helped with decentralization, gave lectures at the University of Prishtina, tried to facilitate a link between that school and Kent, he advised political candidates, and had begun to write a book about the KLA. All of this sounded perfect! It was exactly what I had been searching for. This was heavy with drama, conflict, struggle… this was something I was interested in throwing myself into. And it was accessible. The word itself, Kosovo, conjured up images that were foreign, adventurous, and powerful. I was transfixed. And to be connected to all of that through my law school… it was perfect. I had rediscovered my controlled wilderness. I figured out where Kosovo was on the map, talked my friend into taking me to the seminar, and screwed up the courage to ask Prof. Perritt if I could join Operation Kosovo. And I was in.

From there, things moved quickly. [something you should be thankful for after wading through the last two pages of my meandering monologue] I did some work for Prof. Perritt, then became his research assistant, and subsequently was asked to go to Kosovo during Spring Break. Our purpose was primarily to interview KLA soldiers for his book and one of the individuals we were supposed to meet was the Prime Minister, Mr. Ramush Haradinaj. Unfortunately for me, three days before I left Chicago, Mr. Haradinaj was indicted by The Hague Tribunal for his involvement in the war against Milosevic and he was taken to prison in the Netherlands. However, the Professor and I still had an audience with him, so we went to the government building at the proper time to see what could be seen.

We were met there by his lawyer, Michael O’Reilly, who was kind enough to give us a few minutes out of his now extraordinarily busy schedule. I should state here that Professor Perritt is really quite a unique professor. He must be one of the best teachers I’ve ever encountered. He has a practical go-gettem mindset and an uncanny ability to relate to students as a mentor and peer and the same time. This ability is perhaps only eclipsed by an impressive knack for creating opportunities for his students. For example, after mentioning casually over coffee how interesting I thought it would be to work on the Haradinaj case, I sat stunned and horrified as he bluntly articulated just that desire to Michael. I was even more stunned, though this time with sheer disbelief when Michael, likely as surprised as I was by the sudden solicitation, accepted. It was all a bit of a blur.

A week later, back in Chicago I felt a strange change taking place. I was fascinated with Kosovo and with this case, and I read everything that I could get my hands on that related to it. Over the next few months I read about Ramush, Kosovo, International Law, the KLA, Serbia, anything I could find, and for the first time in my life I felt really inspired to learn everything I could about a subject. (for the record I didn’t even come close) Chicago-Kent, and my study of law, became my tool for accessing this incredible opportunity. I threw myself at my studies with renewed abandon. And gradually, incredibly, I began to realize that law was becoming my silver bullet. I couldn’t believe it. All those worn out clichés. All those saying I had heard about ‘law taking you anywhere’ they were right?!? And all those lawyers that had told me about ‘the opportunities loaded in law’ they were dead on! I was amazed. Astonished. And thrilled.

In my opinion, rarely have those clichés been more true than in Kosovo. Law was at the heart of the region’s future. In 1999 when NATO began its bombing campaign and effectively ended Serb occupation of Kosovo (and a confused but vicious Serbian ethnic cleansing campaign to boot) the Albanian population which made up more than 80% of Kosovo was ecstatic. There would be no more random beatings, executions, and general belittlement at the hands of Serbia. [this was no guarantee that these things wouldn’t happed at the hands of Albanians… but that’s another story] One Kosovar Albanian kid I talked to, who was roughly my age, told me about waiting at his window the day that NATO troops were supposed to come to his town, but then falling asleep as the night wore on. In the morning, he awoke to see thousands of people running at full speed to the town square. The NATO force had come in while he had slept and by now people had picked all of the flowers in the entire town and were now grabbing branches from trees and bushes or anything they could find that was green to give to the soldiers. He was crying and crying and when he finally got close enough to see a soldier (an American as it turned out) he couldn’t speak. He just wept a thank you over and over. Freedom was near!! Sort of.

Unfortunately, the decisiveness of the International community pretty much ended when Serbia left Kosovo. The United Nations moved into the region and set up a UN protectorate which in effect governed the area. This was appropriate as the Albanians needed time to create a state. The government, constitution, civil society, and economy were just a handful of issues that needed to be sorted out. This was a sticky business because technically Kosovo was (and is) still a part of Serbia although there were (and are) just very few Serbs in the region and no ‘Serb presence’ (military, police, etc.) at all. Further, after the war, the opportunity for Albanians to even the score after decades of mistreatment at the hands of Serbs often proved too tempting to pass up and many Serbs fled fearing their lives. In sum the UN presence initially was essential. The problem with the United Nations governance has been that its charter is far too vague. It’s clear that Kosovo must create the infrastructure to properly operate as a state and it must secure the safety of all of its minorities, Serbs included, but beyond that it’s difficult to say what needs to be done in order for Kosovo to get independence. The UN has set up standards that must be met, but they are so impressively vague that depending on how you read them, they could have been met years ago or they could take another generation to accomplish.

It has been five years now since Kosovo was “liberated.” There is a now multi-party democratic government structure complete with a president, PM, and parliament, that currently operates beneath the UN. Still there have been no official talks about the future of the region. For six years Albanians in Kosovo have been living with what Ambassador Richard Holbrook described as “a siege mentality.” Mortally terrified that at any moment the region could be handed back to Serbia and breathlessly hoping that their wildest dreams could be fulfilled and they could be granted independence. Further, in the six years without independent statehood, Kosovo’s economy has gotten into real trouble. Kosovo can’t attract foreign direct investments because they can’t underwrite any security. They are not technically a State. Businesses won’t invest there because they don’t know if they’ll be a Kosovar investment or a Serbian investment in a few years. The region needs to negotiate with the UN for the simple right to put a ‘Made in Kosovo’ sticker on its produce. [technically it’s either ‘Made in the United Nation’s Mission in Kosovo Protectorate’ or ‘Made in Serbia’ neither of which are attractive options to the Kosovars] As a result, the unemployment rate in Kosovo now approaches 60%.

This year, for the first time there is a real possibility that an official discussion concerning Kosovo’s future could take place. Largely this is thanks to the leaps and bounds the region made during Ramush Haradinaj’s three month tenure as Prime Minister. (I oversimplify, but there is truth to this statement) However, Ramush Haradinaj is no longer Prime Minster, and the full extent of his talents became painfully obvious as the region has already begun to backslide from that high water mark. So as summer wears on, and the potential for a decision about Kosovo’s future looms on the horizon, the entire population is transfixed, terrified, and hopeful to hear a decision on its fate.

Law plays a role in every element of this. Setting up the government, creating a constitution, designing a functional civil society, decentralizing a former communist state’s economy, ensuring the rights of Serbs, prosecuting opportunistic criminals, and of course interpreting the interminably vague UN resolution 1244 regarding Kosovo. There are, few other places in the world where the power, creativity, and ubiquitous character of the law is so visible. There are few other places in the world where the potential to use law to make a difference in the region is so accessible. It has been an amazing summer.

(Let me just insert a real self serving plug here, I should probably mention at some point that I’m currently working with two other students at Chicago-Kent to design a travel/study package to Balkans for students. They’d come to the Balkans, spend time in Albania and see what 50 years of isolationist Maoist government has done, go up through Macedonia and begin to get a sense of the ethnic fault lines between Serbs and Albanians by visiting refugee camps, enter Kosovo, have a homestay with a Kosovar family and get a little exposure to a national struggle to form a State, the repercussions of ethnic cleansing, as well as to a fascinating dynamic between East and West. Albanians here are predominately Muslim, but in such a moderate yet still authentic sense that its really beautifully eye opening. It’s just an incredibly unique place where lots of different cultures collide. [– I’m sorry, I’m sort of loosing the thread here… it’s late- ] The trip could end in Kosovo or could then continue up to Croatia which is a secure fully function state with a thriving tourist economy. The idea would be to walk the student through a full circle of States at different junctions while exposing them to a completely unique clash of cultures, perhaps perform some public service, and expose American students to the Balkans. I digress)

I’m going to shift here and talk a bit of my person experiences here because they overlap the time period I am currently describing. I’m also going to try to answer some of your questions for a change.

How is life in Prishtina? Is it very different than Chicago? What do you do there?

Life in Prishtina is very different than anything I’ve experienced before. In general the population loves Americans because of our role in pushing NATO to bomb the Serbs. This is actually a really refreshing sentiment. It is a wonderful feeling to be genuinely proud of the United States for initiating a foreign policy that did the right thing. And a much different feeling than I’ve gotten elsewhere in Europe. (though that has changed somewhat after 07/07/05.) Because of the strong international presence here, lots of Albanians speak English and nearly everyone in the service industry does. As a result I don’t speak the language though I’m hiring a tutor to try. Even with the prevalent English, the language barrier is frustrating. It’s not like French or Spanish, Italian, German, etc. where you can make a fair guess as to what basic stuff means from context. Things like toilet, food, restaurant, etc. It’s just very very different.

The city itself is not much to write home about, but the culture is unbelievable. First, the Albanians are perhaps some of the friendliest people I have ever encountered… which is nice. But Kosovo lays on such an intriguing crossroad between East and West. It was conquered by both the Romans and the Ottomans. The latter for 500 years and as a result there is this strong Eastern influence here. This is present in the music, the food, the religion, everywhere. But what’s so incredible is that its accessible to an American or to any Western like myself. I mean if I go to Jordan, or Iran, or some other Muslim society there is no way that I would be accepted with the same openness as I am here. And I don’t mean to suggest that Jordanians or Iranians ‘don’t accept Westerns’ or make any sweeping generalization like that, but there is just no way that as a community they would embrace an American the way the Kosovo community does. For better or worse, Kosovar Albanians are in love with America and generally thrilled with the West on principle. It literally saved their lives when NATO rescued them from the Serbs, and that creates a really unique opportunity for a Western, such as myself, to really explore this culture. I have been trying my hardest to take advantage of that.

That said, I have no hot water in my apartment, no water at all past midnight, and I had to stop typing for a few minutes just now as the power cut out a few hours ago and my laptop finally died. It’s back on now but it cuts out all the time. It’s a really disorienting blend of first and third world places. The international presence here, the giant billboard stating in perfect English ‘people of Great Britain we are with you”, the large building with Bill Clinton painted on the side (the largest street bears his name as well), the fashion, and gadgets all lull you into thinking that you’re in a very very modern and friendly place, and for the most part you are… but then there are moments when you are sitting in the dark waiting for the electricity to go back on listening to gunfire on the street from a local wedding…or perhaps something more sinister. That’s the frustrating thing. As a foreigner I just don’t know. There were three explosions the first week I was here, there haven’t been any since. No one was injured, but they certainly reminded me that I was no longer in Chicago.

How are the excitement and nerves palatable?

I think I’ve spoken to that a bit. The explosions mentioned above were directly related to the coming talks. Everything, every decision made by a politician, every policy instituted by a NGO, everything is geared towards achieving independence. (or blocking it, depending on if you’re in Prishtina or Belgrade)

The first comment out of most Kosovars mouth is about the potential for independence. The weight and frustration of their 6 years of purgatory and the indescribable excitement about the upcoming talks often is stated and restated and stated again during the same conversation. It’s just so frustrating for them, understandably so. Grafitti covers the concrete with slogans that translate to ‘No negotiations, self-determination!” A reference to one group’s determination not to deal with Serbia at all, and simply declare independence. The newspapers cover the process with exacting detail. It’s always the front page. I don’t speak the language, as I mentioned earlier, but it’s not hard to decipher coverage of the Swiss envoy’s visit and their comments about the future and how a majority should be recognized.

Last March the nerves and excitement boiled over, and there were massive riots all over Kosovo and many Serb houses and dwelling were burnt to the ground. It was tragic, horrific, but some argue that it woke the international community up a bit to the need to move things forward. One way or the other. Last month Kai Eide the special UN envoy for Kosovo visited to access the standards and determine whether talks concerning Kosovo’s future could take place. Cue explosions, protests, and political intrigue.

Finally, the UN governance is just becoming unsustainable. The UN can’t stay here forever. At some point there must be a decision whether to grant independence, send Kosovo back to Serbia, or break it up somehow. (The last option is the least attractive, as it would involve massive restructuring) There is again a real frustration here with the process, and that’s a shame. The world has a lot to gain with an independent Kosovo. It would get a democratic, Western friendly, Muslim State. It would effortlessly begin to bridge the gap between the West and the Muslim world and secure at least a small ally in that corner. The resources America is spending to try to accomplish this in Iraq are staggering, and here is Kosovo, a democratic Muslim state begging, pleading for statehood. In love with America, dying to be part of the EU, and needing only a nod from the UN to accomplish independence.

Do you know any Serbs in Kosovo? What do you think of them and their fate? What is their fate?

I don’t know any Serbs in Kosovo. They make up less than 10% of the population and as a result I don’t think I’ve run into any. Not that I could tell if I did. I think that in a democratic Kosovo they will be safe but still face difficult discrimination. My first instinct is to quickly cast judgment on that. Discrimination is obviously a really lousy thing, and it’s lousy to see here. But I understand where it comes from in this case. I just cannot fathom the brutality of the Milosevic regime, in Croatia, in Bosnia, and then in Kosovo. I feel horrible for the Serbs who now have to live with that legacy, I feel horrible for the Albanians who had to live through it. And I find it so so difficult for a kid from Suburban America to cast much judgment one way or another. I don’t think its right, the discrimination that is, but I don’t see a solution that makes Serbs and Albanians get along without animosity. In a population as skewed towards one demographic such as Kosovo is there is bound to be discrimination. I think a transparent democracy, communication, justice, and time are always a good combination for a remedy. Other than that, I think I’m stumped.

Is there a chance it will unite with Albania?

No. I don’t think there is much of a chance at all, maybe in the distant future but most Kosovars that I’ve spoken with aren’t much interested in a Greater Albania. Just an independent Kosovo. What I really do believe is that there is a chance that an independent Kosovo could have a stabilizing effect on the Balkans. If you want details ask and I can provide them, but Iim running out of steam tonight.

Right, so I realize that I have been typing and typing and this may not be at all what you are looking for. At worst maybe it will give you some context if you want to do a story at a later date. I also am painfully aware that I am leaving out what is absolutely the best part of the story. Ramush Haradinaj. I am doing this intentionally because I don’t really know what I can say, and I really want to take some time to organize my thoughts and get this right. I’ll briefly give you a description though. I think I can do that.

How old is he? What does he look like? What is he like?

I am inspired by Haradinaj. Sitting in a room with him I feel like I imagine it must have felt like to sit with Lincoln, or Otto von Bismark. Someone that not only has incredible talent but who is then put into a unique circumstance which then magnifies and brings the best of those talents to bear. Ramush is larger than life. Charisma shoots out of his skin. He is dynamic, articulate, quick witted, speaks at least three languages fluently, he was a heroic fighter, and the most adept statesmen Kosovo has seen to date. Physically, He’s 5’10 muscular (I think he has a blackbelt in Kung Fu…), short jet black hair. He’s around 36 or 37 and the population here adores him. He is a bit like their George Washington, [the old George Washington – as in brilliant fighter/statemen - not the revisionist George Washington – selfish showman] Personally, I think it’s a travesty that he was indicted. I think it’s a shame and I would love for Americans to discover this individual because he would fascinate America as effortlessly as he has fascinated me. (and incidentally everyone who has spent any time with him) You actually would get a very good bio/description of him by contacting Prof. Perritt at Kent. hperritt@Kentlaw.edu. He’d get back to you in a matter of hours if you asked him to. I guess before I really go any further on how frustrating and tragic the fact that he has been indicted is, I’d like a bit more time.

Right… so far, I’ve tried hard to provide a bit of context for Kosovo, explain the impact law plays and has played in my life, and give you a narrative about my stumbled journey from a confused college kid to law student to Kosovo. Maybe that’s enough for a story now. Maybe more could be done on Ramush later. Regardless more should be done on Ramush later. (though perhaps you are Kosovoed out.) Maybe this is all such blathering rubbish that your poor eyes have started to tear and ache from wading through it. It’s really tough to tell. I’ll end now though. [and there was great rejoicing!] with some more direct answer to your questions. [you mean you’re not done writing yet?!]

How many people are on the defence team? What do you do?

What does all this have to do with attending Chicago-Kent Law School? Is this legit preparation for being a lawyer?

   The entire defense team currently consists of six people scattered across England, The Hague, and Kosovo. I am currently working with the lead lawyer for the defense in Kosovo. I read through evidence, I summarize evidence, I was flown Dublin last month to get familiar with the software we are using for the case, and went to London last week to help give a presentation on what I’ve been doing to the rest of the law team. We are preparing for a trial and I cannot think of a more legit preparation for my career than what I’m doing right now. As an additional benefit, the laws of war were all written with international conflicts in mind. However, the shape of conflict in the 21^st century has really been internal conflict (insurgencies, guerilla movements, etc.) and that’s what we’re dealing with here. So in that sense its really groundbreaking stuff that I’m exposed to. And that’s exciting.

When does the trial begin? How long will it last?

Starts in Jan. 2007 and is scheduled to run through 2008. After the slothful progress of the Milosevic trial they’ve made an effort to be a bit swifter with the cases.

Chances for an outcome?

Ramush could be acquitted or sentenced for however long the judge sees fit. There is no death penalty in The Hague

Does it prepare you to be a lawyer?

I don’t know. Probably doesn’t prepare me for lots of types of lawyering, but what’s a lawyer? My experiences in Kosovo have convinced me that the potential opportunities for a lawyer are bounded by competence and imagination and that’s about it. And here I am singing these old clichés, I know… I know… its almost comical. But I also know that its true.

Has this experience changed your life any? If so, how?

I feel like I covered this a bit above. And if not, I’m too tired to properly address it. My experience in law school and then in Kosovo have made a colossal impact on my life. It’s given me dramatic perspective, highlighted the ability to use law to effect change, and has just been a really fun rewarding experience. I could go on and on, but mercifully, I will stop. Now.

Andrew T. Strong

4 August 2005

astrong@kentlaw.edu