This was the Americans kicking him out.
Thirty years after the Dayton agreement ended a war that killed 100,000 people, the Western powers charged with stewarding Bosnia's fragile peace have fractured over who should lead the international mission there. In late June, diplomats in Sarajevo failed to agree on a successor to German high representative Christian Schmidt, whom the Trump administration forced out — pushing instead an Italian diplomat with no Bosnian experience, a choice European capitals suspect is driven not by geopolitical wisdom but by a billion-dollar gas pipeline tied to Trump-connected commercial interests. The episode asks an old question in a new register: whether a transatlantic alliance built on shared values can hold when one partner begins measuring its commitments in direct financial return.
- The Trump administration forced out Germany's Christian Schmidt as Bosnia's high representative and is aggressively backing a 76-year-old Italian diplomat who has never worked in Bosnia, speaks no Bosnian language, and was virtually unknown in diplomatic circles until Washington began campaigning for him.
- European officials believe the real motive is a $1 billion gas pipeline awarded without competitive tender to AAFS Infrastructure, a company with thin credentials but close personal ties to Donald Trump — and the high representative's office holds the legal power to resolve the land disputes blocking the pipeline's path.
- Britain, France, and Germany have aligned against the Landi candidacy, proposing their own candidates, but their unity is under strain as Washington threatens to reconsider its entire role in Bosnia's international presence if it does not get its way.
- With a July 14 deadline looming and an American deputy serving as a two-week placeholder, the standoff has left Bosnia's international governance in suspension at a moment when Serb separatist leader Milorad Dodik — recently returned to power after Trump lifted sanctions against him — is testing the limits of the Dayton framework.
- The outcome will determine not only who administers a country still scarred by ethnic war, but whether Europe retains meaningful influence in its own neighborhood or whether the Trump era has permanently reordered the terms of the transatlantic relationship.
On a Tuesday in late June, Western diplomats gathered in Sarajevo to choose a new high representative for Bosnia and Herzegovina — the international administrator whose office, created by the 1995 Dayton peace accord, holds sweeping powers over a country still divided by the wounds of a war that killed 100,000 people. They left without agreement, and Christian Schmidt, the German politician who had held the post, was gone — not by his own choice. "This was the Americans kicking him out," said one analyst who tracks the region closely.
The Trump administration's preferred successor is Antonio Zanardi Landi, a 76-year-old Italian diplomat who has never worked in Bosnia, speaks none of its languages, and showed little interest in the country until Washington began pushing his name. The other members of the Peace Implementation Council steering board — representing the UK, France, Germany, the EU, Canada, Japan, and Turkey — were baffled. The explanation European officials in Sarajevo have settled on involves a pipeline.
The Southern Interconnection pipeline was awarded without competitive tender to AAFS Infrastructure and Energy, a company with minimal infrastructure experience but close personal ties to Donald Trump. The project requires routing through Serb-controlled territory and faces obstacles: EU objections and unresolved questions of land ownership dating to the war. One scenario circulating among officials is that Landi, once installed as high representative, could issue a special law clearing the pipeline's path. An AAFS official reportedly told Bosnian parliamentarians the property question would be resolved once Landi took office.
The Trump administration has made its priorities explicit, announcing that American actions in the Balkans would henceforth be guided by "direct return" for US companies. When Schmidt defied US wishes in early June, Washington demanded his removal. Germany negotiated a compromise — Schmidt would resign but remain until October elections. Within weeks, the administration broke that understanding and insisted on his immediate departure.
Europe has pushed back. France backed its own Balkans envoy; Germany proposed a Danish diplomat with direct Sarajevo experience. But Washington has threatened to reconsider its entire role in Bosnia's international presence if Landi is not appointed, and the deadline is July 14.
Bosnian politics makes the stakes acute. The country remains divided between a Bosniak-Croat Federation and the Serb-run Republika Srpska, whose leader Milorad Dodik — a 28-year fixture of Balkan politics — was briefly ousted after Schmidt annulled his separatist actions. The Trump administration then lifted sanctions on Dodik, who returned to power and gave his blessing to the pipeline project when Donald Trump Jr. visited his stronghold. The peace has held for three decades, but it has also frozen Bosnia in place. Now, with Washington and Europe openly at odds over who will steward that fragile equilibrium, the question is whether the West can still act as one in its own neighborhood.
In a Sarajevo conference room on a Tuesday in late June, Western diplomats gathered to choose a new international envoy for Bosnia and Herzegovina—a position with sweeping powers to shape the country's future. They left without agreement, marking a rupture in the transatlantic alliance that has held the Balkans together for three decades.
The immediate casualty was Christian Schmidt, a German politician who had served as the high representative, the international administrator overseeing Bosnia since the 1995 Dayton peace accord. The Trump administration had demanded his removal, and by day's end, he was out. His American deputy, Louis Crishock, would serve temporarily for two weeks while the major powers tried again to find consensus on a permanent successor. But the real contest was over something far larger: whether Europe could resist Washington's pressure, or whether the Trump era would remake the region according to American commercial interests.
The standoff centers on a name few outside diplomatic circles had heard before: Antonio Zanardi Landi, a 76-year-old Italian diplomat with virtually no experience in Bosnia. He has never worked there, speaks no Bosnian language, and until recently showed little interest in the country. Yet the Trump administration has campaigned aggressively for his appointment, bewildering the other members of the Peace Implementation Council steering board—representatives from the US, UK, France, Germany, Italy, the EU, Canada, Japan, and Turkey. No one could understand why Washington wanted this particular man for this particular job. The explanation, European officials in Sarajevo believe, lies not in Landi's qualifications but in a billion-dollar gas pipeline.
The Southern Interconnection pipeline was awarded without competitive tender to AAFS Infrastructure and Energy, a company with minimal experience in infrastructure but deep personal connections to Donald Trump. Last month, the Trump administration announced a new Balkans policy: American actions in the region would henceforth be guided by "direct return" for US companies, abandoning what it called the failed approach of "open-ended institution building." The pipeline deal, which requires routing through Serb-controlled territory, faces obstacles—EU objections and the thorny question of land ownership in Bosnia, an issue unresolved since the war ended. One scenario circulating among Sarajevo officials: Landi, once installed as high representative, could issue a special law dividing state property in ways that would clear the pipeline's path. An AAFS official has reportedly told Bosnian parliamentarians that this property question would be resolved once Landi took office.
The diplomatic maneuvering reveals how far the Trump administration is willing to go to advance these interests. In early June, after Schmidt defied US wishes, Washington demanded his removal. Germany negotiated a compromise: Schmidt would resign but remain in post until October elections. Within weeks, the Trump administration broke that understanding and insisted on his immediate departure. "This was involuntary," said Kurt Bassuener, co-founder of the Democratization Policy Council. "This was not Schmidt leaving of his own accord. This was the Americans kicking him out."
Europe has resisted. France backed René Troccaz, its Balkans envoy. Germany proposed Peter Sørensen, a Danish diplomat and former EU envoy to Sarajevo. Britain, France, and Germany aligned against the Landi candidacy, though their unity fractured under pressure. The US threatened to reconsider its entire role in Bosnia's international presence if Landi was not appointed. The deadline for a decision is July 14.
The contest matters because Bosnia remains a fragile construction, divided into two halves by the Dayton agreement: a Bosniak-Croat Federation and a Serb-run entity called Republika Srpska. The high representative's office was created to oversee that agreement and push the country toward ethnic integration—a mission that has largely failed. Last year, Schmidt took the rare step of annulling separatist actions by Milorad Dodik, the Serb leader who has dominated Republika Srpska for 28 years. Dodik was briefly ousted. But the Trump administration lifted sanctions on him and his associates, and Dodik returned to power. When Donald Trump Jr. visited Banja Luka, Dodik gave his blessing to the pipeline project.
The war that ended in 1995 killed 100,000 people, mostly Bosniaks massacred by better-armed Serb forces. The peace has held for three decades, but it has also frozen the country in place—politically divided, economically stalled, its ethnic wounds unhealed. Now, as Washington and Europe clash over who will lead the international mission there, that fragile equilibrium is being tested in ways not seen since the Dayton agreement was signed. The outcome will signal whether the West can still speak with one voice in its own neighborhood, or whether the Trump era has fundamentally reordered the transatlantic relationship.
Citações Notáveis
This was involuntary. This was not Schmidt leaving of his own accord. This was the Americans kicking him out.— Kurt Bassuener, co-founder of the Democratization Policy Council
This behaviour undermines the peace that has held for 30 years.— Jim O'Brien, former US diplomat, on Trump administration actions in the Balkans
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does it matter who runs this office? It sounds like a bureaucratic position.
It's not bureaucratic at all. The high representative can annul laws, dismiss officials, and reshape property rights. Last year, Schmidt used those powers to break a 28-year strongman's grip on power. That's not administration—that's governance.
So the US wants Landi in that job to help a pipeline deal?
That's what European diplomats believe. The pipeline needs to cross Serb territory and state property. If Landi issues a law dividing that property favorably, the project moves forward. It's a $1 billion contract for a company connected to Trump.
But why would the US care about a gas pipeline in Bosnia?
Because the Trump administration announced a new policy: American actions in the Balkans should generate "direct return" for US companies. This isn't about regional stability anymore. It's about profit.
And Europe is refusing?
They're trying to. But they're fractured. Germany, France, and Britain aligned against Landi, but when the US threatened to withdraw from the entire international presence in Bosnia, some European officials wavered. The deadline is two weeks away.
What happens if the US wins?
A precedent is set. The international mission in Bosnia becomes a vehicle for American commercial interests rather than peace-building. And the country itself—still divided, still fragile—becomes a testing ground for whether the West can be divided against itself.