War in Europe: Many a deadly slip...

For much of the time, diplomacy looks rather like an old-fashioned conjuring trick: calm and formal with just a little sleight of hand to preserve the mystery. But when things get serious, it's more like plate- spinning in the middle of an ice-hockey match.

Such is the appointed task of the growing band appointed to mediate between Nato and Yugoslavia as the war in Kosovo heads towards the end of its second month. And it raises the question: wouldn't it make sense to choose between the plates and the hockey game?

Just 10 days ago, it seemed as if the war was heading into its endgame. The West had held together, and managed to get Russia on board. Schedules were drawn up and flight plans filed for the shuttles that would take the war to an end. But after a series of blunders, surprises and reverses, it has been as much as anyone could manage to keep the act together. Behind the scenes, negotiations have edged forward, but there is still no sign that the bombing will stop or peace will come to Kosovo. And every day that the bombing continues brings a fresh risk of disaster.

When the foreign ministers of the Group of Eight nations emerged from their meeting on a hilltop near Bonn on Thursday 8 May, they seemed satisfied. A plan had been negotiated that put everyone on the same side. Madeleine Albright, the US Secretary of State, had taken along Time magazine's managing editor, Walter Isaacson, for the ride, and he documented the trip in that week's issue. "Slobo's feeling the heat," Mrs Albright told Mr Isaacson "with a twinkle in her eye" as they flew to Bonn from Brussels. It was agreed that the eight nations would call for "effective international and security presences" in Kosovo after a Serbian pullout. Clearly, this was a breakthrough.

The next step was to formalise the plan in a UN Security Council resolution under Chapter Seven of the UN charter, which authorises military operations. "US officials said that with Russia now on board, they do not expect China to block a resolution," wrote the Washington Post.

But soon Mrs Albright was on another trip, just a few minutes up Connecticut Avenue from the White House to the Chinese embassy. She was calling on the ambassador, Li Zhao Xing, to explain why earlier that day American missiles had pounded the embassy in Belgrade, killing four and leaving scores wounded. The disaster put the US and British embassies in Peking under siege, outraged Russia, on which the success of the diplomatic initiative depended, and once again forced the West to rush around keeping the plates spinning, rather than getting on with the game.

A furious Peking suspended diplomatic ties with Washington on weapons proliferation, and severed dialogue on human rights. The Chinese foreign minister demanded an official apology, compensation, a full public inquiry and punishment for those responsible for the outrage. Bill Clinton tried to ring Jiang Zemin, but the Chinese leader would not take his call. In his first public response, President Jiang declared in a phone call with Boris Yeltsin that a Nato halt to the Yugoslav bombing was a prerequisite to any peace plan discussions in the Security Council.

The Russian President, for his part, also reacted with outrage. The attack was "not only an act of vandalism, but a further flagrant violation of international law," he said. "It's not just aggression, it's barbarism, barbarism," said Viktor Chernomyrdin, the former prime minister whom Russia has appointed as its peace envoy. And according to one of Robin Cook's advisers, it would be unwise to "put an adjective" to the reaction of the Foreign Secretary to the news.

By Friday, things were starting to return to something closer to normal. Mr Clinton had signed the Chinese embassy's book of condolence, and Mr Jiang at last turned off the answerphone and took his call. But by then the problem had switched from Peking to Moscow.

Russia has its own agenda when it comes to relations with China, and had already supported Peking's demand for a halt to Nato bombing before UN talks. "We're not taking part in this war, it's not our country that started it," said Mr Yeltsin. That was on Wednesday, the day he sacked his Prime Minister, Yevgeny Primakov. Nor was it the only token of political instability: yesterday the Duma was voting on whether to impeach Mr Yeltsin himself. Even though none of the five counts were passed, the upheavals did nothing to enhance Mr Chernomyrdin's authority.

This may help to explain the entrance of a new figure: Martti Ahtisaari, the Finnish President, who has been appointed to represent all parties, capitalising on his experience at the UN and in dealing with Moscow. He was supposed to go to Belgrade this week, to present a united front. But substantial areas of disagreement, particularly on the question of a pause in the bombing, are likely to delay his trip.

Through the week, officials worked on the wording of a Security Council resolution, with discussions about how the role played by Nato in a peacekeeping force should be described, and how it would be possible to define whether Mr Milosevic had agreed to the conditions.

There is still a blueprint on the table agreed by Russia and the West. Despite the furore, Nato has not split. China and America are speaking again, and the windows are being patched up in the US embassy in Peking.

But what about Belgrade? The fact is that while all this has been going on, the central task - of getting the Yugoslav government involved in a dialogue to meet Nato conditions - has taken second place. Only one thing has remained unaffected by the rapid diplomatic shifts and shocks: the bombing has continued unabated, and now there is another apparent mishap to explain.

t Additional reporting by Rachel Sylvester and Teresa Poole.