LONDON -- Miroslav Filipovic, 49, is a modest man. A Yugoslav of the old school, he lives in a town in southern Serbia and worked as a journalist through the darkest days of the communist period.
He has written a tome on the social impact of aircraft manufacturing in Kraljevo from 1926-44. He helped organize food and other aid in his hometown in the aftermath of the NATO bombing campaign. He has a wife and two children, both of whom are studying to become journalists.
But for five days last week, he found himself sitting alone in a prison cell, awaiting a decision from a military court over whether he would be tried on espionage charges.
While authorities in Belgrade never commented, the reason for his detention was clear. For the past few months, this quiet figure had shined a spotlight on the core of the Yugoslav establishment: the military and security services.
In several remarkable dispatches for the Institute for War & Peace Reporting, Filipovic told of the atrocities committed by the Yugoslav Army in Kosovo, allowing the soldiers to describe their crimes and their remorse in their own words. In another article, he detailed the military build-up in the Sandjak, the Muslim-majority territory in Serbia. And in yet another piece, he detailed the efforts by the authorities to smuggle police and other armed individuals into Kosovo.
But Filipovic also reported on the plight of Kosovo's Serbs -- both those who stayed and suffered under Albanian radicals and those who fled to Serbia, only to be neglected by the authorities.
Filipovic's reporting has been distinguished by the depth of its sourcing from within the military and security services. This was no speculation or political posturing. He had the story cold.
In some ways, Filipovic himself symbolized the divisions within Serbian society. His colleagues said his determination to continue his work, even after been threatened by authorities, was based on his own sense of patriotism. He was determined to expose the policies of a government gone wrong.
Recent mass demonstrations in Serbia show that he is hardly alone. Nor was his fate at the hands of the government unique, given the recent temporary closures of the opposition Studio B TV and independent B2-92 radio.
Filipovic's case comes two months into an intense campaign by the authorities to brand all independent media in Serbia as foreign mercenaries. His colleagues feared that the government would attempt to use his case to prove that all independent journalists are spies.
When the state security officers came to his home on Monday, May 8, they seized his computer, papers, list of contacts and passport. His case was referred by a local magistrate to a military prosecutor to determine whether to open a formal espionage investigation.
The magistrate made it clear that Filipovic's crime was reporting for overseas news organizations, in particular IWPR. The charge read in part that, since October 1999 he had been involved in "gathering information crucial for the defense of the country and was passing it to a foreign organization specializing in intelligence." Such writing, the investigators claimed, "undermined the defense of the country."
While his arrest quickly attracted international attention -- Filipovic also wrote for Agence France Presse and a Belgrade daily newspaper -- there was little the outside world could do to win his release. "We don't have much leverage these days with Slobodan Milosevic," was the frequent response from officials contacted at the British Foreign Office or the European Union.
Five days after his arrest, the military court decided to drop its case, apparently concluding it did not have enough evidence to pursue espionage charges, and ordered Filipovic's release. The decision may in part reflect the ongoing disagreement between civilian and military authorities on how best to handle cases of dissent.
"I deny any possibility that I committed the criminal act of espionage," Filipovic said upon his release. "If someone is involved in such an activity that person would not publish the information using his own name."
What remains unclear is whether Filipovic may again be arrested. When told of his imminent release, his wife, Slavica asked, "Is it finished then? Or do I have to be afraid that he will be arrested again?"
Indeed, Filipovic's lawyers canceled a post-release press conference until they could determine whether any other charges were pending against him. It's possible the local district court could bring new charges.
For the moment, at least, Filipovic remains free. The media in Serbia, however, clearly remains imprisoned.
Anthony Borden is executive director of the Institute
for War & Peace Reporting, a London-based independent
media organization.