Tough talk. But so far, world leaders have found it easy to fall for Serb promises. Each one– George Bush and Bill Clinton, Mikhail Gorbachev and Boris Yeltsin, Britain’s John Major, France’s Francois Mitterrand and Germany’s Helmut Kohl-wanted to solve the Yugoslav crisis on the cheap. Their own experts told them the Serbs would respond only to a credible threat of force. But domestic politics took precedence; so did postcold-war alliance rivalries. So Western leaders kept deluding themselves that diplomacy could deter Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic from his drive for a Greater Serbia.

After criticizing Bush’s inaction during the campaign, Clinton and his aides found themselves facing the same obstacles. Shortly after their Bosnia policy announcement in February, a hawkish former colleague from the campaign challenged deputy NSC adviser Samuel Berger to explain Clinton’s flabby stand. “Dammit, of course I wish we could do more!” Berger shot back. Clinton’s new envoy Reginald Bartholomew won changes in the Vance-Owen peace plan and persuaded the Bosnians to sign. Still the Serbs remained defiant. Ethnic cleansing continued. National-security adviser Anthony Lake grew to dread going home at night, seeing the carnage on TV, then returning to his West Wing office to try again. Secretary of State Warren Christopher began sounding like his fatalistic predecessor Larry Eagleburger, calling Bosnia a “problem from hell.”

Lake knew that if the negotiations didn’t work, the issue couldn’t be abandoned. The administration had trapped itself. In his Feb. 10 statement, Christopher had cast aside the fig leaf that Bush used to cover his inaction–the assertion that Bosnia was essentially a European problem and not of U.S. strategic interest. Clinton aides gave the diplomatic route two months. Finally, at an NSC meeting April 9, they admitted that it had all but failed. “We have to start planning for Phase 2,” said Lake. Everyone knew that meant adding military force to the mix.

When they met again on April 20, Clinton asked each adviser to state a preferred option. His aides were divided, as Bush’s had been. There was still no consensus in Congress, among the allies or in the American public. Little had changed in a year except that 100,000 more Bosnians were dead or missing. Lake, Berger and Defense Secretary Les Aspin leaned toward various military steps. Christopher argued that U.S. credibility would suffer if Clinton used force without a clear, achievable goal in mind. The president asked each one how the aim could be achieved. “What is the worst thing that could happen under your option?” he demanded. Every option had its dark side. He asked for papers on several and kept his counsel about which way he was leaning.

As Decision Day neared, Clinton’s preoccupation grew. After every meeting, he’d call Christopher back to pepper him with more questions. He met with congressional leaders. He asked top military commanders for an assessment of the Bosnians’ and Serbians’ fighting capabilities. The Bosnian Serbs got the message, suddenly agreeing to a new round of talks. “We’ve heard the words before,” a skeptical Christopher said Saturday. “It will take deeds” to divert Clinton from his course. Yet Clinton’s advisers admitted they still hoped that maybe, just maybe, Milosevic had had enough. Maybe America wouldn’t have to use force. Those were seductive thoughts-the kind that Western leaders have entertained before. It’s up to Clinton to show that this time around, if the Serbs don’t mean business, he does.