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Peace Outside, War Inside | Balkan Diskurs
Paul Scherer
May 12th, 2017
Trauma is not restricted to or suffered by only the generation which experienced the war first-hand. Rather, when not treated appropriately, trauma is often transferred within families from one generation to the next.
More than 20 years after the end of the war, trauma remains a major challenge to reconciliation in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Trauma is not restricted to or suffered by only the generation which experienced the war first-hand. Rather, when not treated appropriately, trauma is often transferred within families from one generation to the next.
“If you go to a psychologist […] people will call you crazy and will talk about you. This is a primary reason why people don’t look for help. They end up staying at home and try to deal with their emotions and feelings.”[1]
They say everything heals with time, but for those who have experienced trauma, this expression sounds scornful. The scarring experience of the horrors of war in the 1990s traumatized the Bosnia-Herzegovina society, and large parts continue to suffer from their atrocious experience. As proper treatment is uncommon, their trauma is often – unintentionally – passed down from one generation to the next and has the power to foster fear, anger and hatred between different parts of the society.
Psychological trauma is a serious mental violation that occurs as a response to overwhelming events. Each trauma is personal and unique, and thus, two people going through the same traumatic event may react differently. Nonetheless, it is usually initiated by the experience and/or observation of direct, extreme violence that leads to a fear of death.[2] Because it is not actively accessible to human consciousness and thought processes, the trauma often appears with some temporal delay in the form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The most common symptoms of PTSD include, among others, feelings of fear, helplessness, depression, nightmares, anxiety, aggression, angriness, panic attacks and dissociation.[3]
Trauma and PTSD both go along with dilemmas, paradoxes and impossibilities. During the traumatic event, the human brain stores parts of the experience, but does so incompletely in order to enable the individual to mentally and physically survive it. Thus, trauma puts truth into question: the traumatic event cannot be simply remembered but often surfaces involuntarily in the form of flashbacks, moments of sudden and involuntary re-experiencing of an experience that cannot be accessed actively by the mind, often triggered by certain noises, smells or places.[4]
Oftentimes, those who suffer from traumatic pasts lack ways to express what has happened to them, rendering their personal version of the trauma incomprehensible to outsiders. Although it is advised that speaking about traumatic events in a safe environment is important to the healing process, most who are suffering find this challenging. Silence and stigma are known to be the biggest problems associated with trauma. This appears to be true within the Bosnian society, where suffering from mental illness carries a strong stigma of weakness, which leads many to keep a lid on their troubles.
Another challenging consequence of silence is the high risk of transmitting trauma to the second generation. Transgenerational trauma is trauma that is transferred from the first generation who actually experienced the event to further generations via complex psychological mechanisms. When children and the youth of the second generation suffer from transgenerational trauma, they show symptoms of trauma even though they did not experience it themselves.
Although there is no official data, according to Bosnian professionals working in the field and independent studies, more than one million people in Bosnia are suffering from PTSD due to direct trauma today, and only a very small number of these people receive assistance.[5] The number of people who have passed on their trauma to the next generation over the last 20 years can only be estimated, and the implications of untreated trauma are visible in the Bosnian society and politics: hardening of positions towards “the other” is only one of the behavioral patterns children of traumatized parents adopt unconsciously.
In order to build a better future for the next generations, the traumas of the war generation need to be taken seriously and they need to be given a chance for healing. The chain of transgenerational trauma can only be broken with sensitivity, patience and the will to listen and to be heard.
Collective efforts are required to expedite recovery from trauma and to stop it from being passed down generations. To end the war inside it is critical to create an environment and atmosphere where people can find the language to make their traumatic experiences visible in order to overcome feelings of guilt and shame, and also to help these traumatized individuals reintegrate into the society.
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[1] NGO Project Coordinator in the field of trauma, Bosnia-Herzegovina.
[2] Cf. Edkins, Jenny (2006): Remembering Relationality. Trauma, Time and Politics, in: Bell, Cuncan (2006): Memory, Trauma and World Politics, Palgrave Macmillan UK, pp. 99-115.
[3] Cf. Caruth, Cathy (1995): Trauma: Explorations in memore. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1995, Introduction.
[4] Cf. Baer, Udo; Frick-Baer, Gabriele (2012): Wie Traumata in die nächste Generation wirken. Semnos Verlag, Neukirchen-Vluyn.
[5] Cf. Al Jazeera Europe (2015): Bosnians still suffering from War Trauma, online available at http://www.aljazeera.com/news/europe/2015/01/bosnians-still-suffering-war-trauma-201511818563216943.html. See also: Balkan Insight (2010): Study – PTSD Haunts Bosnian War Survivers, online available at http://www.balkaninsight.com/en/article/study-ptsd-haunts-bosnian-war-survivors.

author: Paul Scherer


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Fighting for Visibility, Fighting for Access | Balkan Diskurs
Danka Cvijić
May 16th, 2017
Persons with disabilities often have difficulty accessing certain institutions since many buildings are not wheelchair-friendly. Additionally, they are discriminated against at work and in college admission processes.
Persons with disabilities often have difficulty accessing certain institutions since many buildings are not wheelchair-friendly. Additionally, they are discriminated against at work and in college admission processes.
Tanja Mandić-Đokić, one of the coordinators of the network of women with disabilities in Bosnia and Herzegovina explains that women with disabilities are essentially treated as invisible by society.
“Society doesn’t treat them as women and it doesn’t acknowledge all of the social roles that they can perform. However, even when women with disabilities do perform regular social roles, society often judges them according to expectations on how they should be performing those roles,” Mandić-Đokić says.
In December of last year, women gathered in Banja Luka’s city center to mark the International Day of Persons with Disabilities with a message that expressed their want for visibility.
One of the main obstacles the disabled face is related to access ramps, which are either completely absent from many facilities or are in very poor condition. Some buildings’ ramps have an incline higher than what has been prescribed by law, and this poses additional problems for wheelchair users.
Student at the Faculty of Political Science in Banja Luka Ognjen Ranisavić says that most of his difficulties stem from underdeveloped legal and institutional solutions as well as the implementation of those that already exist.
“The ever-present process of creating high-quality legal solutions that are consistent with the needs of marginalized groups is notoriously slow. Ambiguity and sluggishness are particular problems associated with the implementation of legal solutions,” he says.
Many educational institutions are also guilty of not applying teaching methods that can provide students with disabilities access to a proper education. This inaccessibility to information creates a situation in which students with hearing and/or visual impairments are unable to keep up with their classes. This limits the number of universities these students can attend and they are, therefore, prevented from studying at the university of their choice.
At the University of Banja Luka, only four faculty buildings are wheelchair accessible or provide customized trolleys: the Faculty of Political Science, the Faculty of Philology, the Faculty of Economics and the Law Faculty. Nevertheless, students claim that conditions are somewhat better than they were a few years ago when studying was nearly impossible for persons living with disabilities.
Ognjen explains that before studying social work at the Faculty of Political Science—the field he is truly interested in—he briefly studied at the Law Faculty because it was the only building that was wheelchair accessible at the time.
He says that newer buildings have been adapted to the needs of the disabled, but there are still important buildings that lack proper entrances or elevators.
“If you are in a wheelchair and need to go to Šipovo to see a dentist, you must take four people with you to carry you up to the second floor of the hospital,” he explains.
According to Ognjen, only residential buildings that have been constructed in the last five years are accessible.
“I would also like to mention that cultural institutions such as culture centers, theaters and others that were built before the war are not at all accessible to persons with disabilities,” he says.
In an interview with EuroBlic, another student from the University of Banja Luka explained that, although she graduated from high school with the best grades, she was unable to go to the faculty of her choice solely because of the building’s inaccessibility to the disabled.
“I wanted to enroll at the Faculty of Electrical Engineering, but this department does not have the appropriate conditions for someone in a wheelchair; and, since I’m not originally from Banja Luka, I didn’t have anyone who could take me to lectures every day,” she explains.
Another significant problem that arises is parking spaces that are designated for the disabled, which are often taken by people without disabilities solely because there are no free spaces left in the parking lot.
In order for society to overcome discrimination against the disabled in areas such as employment and education, the proper support must be provided so that people living with disabilities can advance and actively participate within their communities. “We should be given the opportunity to work for ourselves and to create a society that is in accordance with our needs. No expert in any field can know the needs of the disadvantaged better than we do. Those of us living with disabilities are the experienced experts in this field, but no one is utilizing our expertise for progress,” says Ognjen.

source: news-balkandiskurs

license: Creative Commons - Attribution - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

author: Danka Cvijić


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Staying Invisible to Keep the Peace: the LGBT Community in East Sarajevo | Balkan Diskurs
Mladen Lakić
May 17th, 2017
Behind the LGBT, LGBTIQ, LGBTIQA acronyms are real people, who often face serious discrimination problems. In East Sarajevo, these people work hard to stay under the radar to avoid prejudices and conflict.
Behind the LGBT, LGBTIQ, LGBTIQA acronyms are real people, who often face serious discrimination problems. In East Sarajevo, these people work hard to stay under the radar to avoid prejudices and conflict.
B.R. lives in East Sarajevo. Although he considers it a private matter, he admits he is gay. “There is no community – we do not have any cafes here, like in Sarajevo, with exhibitions, screenings and similar events, but frankly, there are not many cultural events here in general,” B.R. explains. According to him, events like book promotions and exhibitions rarely occur in East Sarajevo and, when they do, there is almost no chance that a book promotion (for instance) would focus on literature related to LGBT issues.
Vanja Tešanović, a youth human rights activist from East Sarajevo explains how to best approach issues such as LGBT rights. “The organizations that deal with these topics do not identify LGBT rights as separate: they are observed in the wider context of human rights,” Vanja says. She supports this approach to this field of work and engagement.
“In a place like East Sarajevo, I think that it is easier to point to human rights as a whole and thus strengthen the awareness about them – focusing solely on LGBT rights would be counterproductive,” she adds.
According to her, the strongest reactions occur when someone mentions the pride parade. “You often hear very homophobic viewpoints. I think people are sometimes not aware of how hurtful this can be. Usually, people realize this when you point out that, in someone else’s eyes, they could be considered a minority,” Vanja says.
B.R, who does not want to reveal his identity for security reasons, says that the life of LGBT people is not easy anywhere in the city. “You constantly have to deal with the fact that someone has something against you. It’s not just the comments that are a problem, but that you cannot get a job if you mention that you are gay, you cannot rent an apartment – these essential needs are denied to you,” he explains.
According to B.R., homophobia is very present, but it largely boils down to personal beliefs. However, as there are no LGBT-focused events, it is hard to start a dialogue about the general mood.
“Let’s not kid ourselves, there is a lot of hatred and misunderstanding and it will not disappear overnight on its own, but a law that could protect you from such things is the key,” B.R. believes.
“To use the word ‘community’ feels incorrect. There is no community. There are only individuals who remain quiet about their sexuality. This environment fosters silence, so everything remains ‘peaceful,’” he concludes.
Vanja mentions that, as part of a Sarajevo Open Center campaign, billboards were placed in several locations around East Sarajevo with the message “one should love whomever he/she wants” and with the rainbow colors as the background.
“To my knowledge, this was the first awareness-raising campaign for the local LGBT community. There were no problems, there was no vandalism, and this is a step forward- even if they were just billboards,” she says.
Discussions about the LGBT community and the issues it faces are often avoided. This was evidenced by a survey conducted in a busy pedestrian area in East Sarajevo. After they heard the question ‘How do you think LGBT people feel in your community?’ many people just abandoned the conversation. A few people gave responses such as, “I don’t know anything about that” or, “life isn’t easy for them, but it’s not easy for anyone.” Other responses included, “it’s hard for everyone and people cope with their problems in their own ways” and “why are you focusing on them, why not ask how anyone here feels?”
These responses, albeit from random passers-by, are representative of the general stance that citizens of BiH and East Sarajevo take regarding such matters. Burdened with economic problems and the everyday pressures of life, they do not have the will to deal the issues that minority groups are facing. Although it was not the norm, it is worth mentioning that there were comments made that called for the lynching of members from the LGBT community.
Our interviewees are convinced that the lack of cultural and public events in East Sarajevo is contributing to the invisibility of the city’s LGBT community. They also mentioned that, when comparing Sarajevo and East Sarajevo, we must bear in mind the proximity of these two cities and their respective histories if we are to understand the current climate surrounding LGBT-related issues.
“To us, it makes sense to look to Sarajevo as a positive example. Day by day, case by case, we continue to see the ways in which community events and activities that are dedicated to promoting awareness and dialogue would greatly benefit our city,” Vanja concludes.

author: Mladen Lakić


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An Uphill Battle for Equality: Banja Luka’s LGBTQ Community | Balkan Diskurs
Andrea Aleksić
May 19th, 2017
As in many other cities, in Banja Luka members of the LGBTQ community encounters many challenges because its members are perceived as ‘different.’ The community struggles to secure basic rights and members often find themselves at odds with their family and friends because of their sexual orientation.
As in many other cities, in Banja Luka members of the LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transexual and Queer) community encounters many challenges because its members are perceived as ‘different.’ The community struggles to secure basic rights and members often find themselves at odds with their family and friends because of their sexual orientation.
Aleksandar Talian, an LGBTQ activist from Banja Luka explains that members of this community are not accepted in society and that activism by and for the community is still in its beginning stages. Currently, the main goal is to organize members of the LGBTQ community and to provide them with safe spaces. Additionally, he says that empowerment through community building is important in order to gain visibility in society.
“In Banja Luka queer culture does not have a public presence. One cannot tell that there is an LGBTQ community here. There are no cafes, clubs or spaces where members of the community can feel safe to gather without being judged. There are two or three cafes that have the reputation of being ‘friendly,’ but it is far from what is offered in more developed countries or even other cities in the region,” Talian observes.
According to him, the widespread sense of insecurity is the biggest issue amongst LGBTQ persons in Banja Luka. LGBTQ people don’t feel safe coming out to their colleagues, families or friends. “The first aspect of this is the physical insecurity and the fear of being attacked on the street. The second is the fear of rejection by loved ones and colleagues. Because of these fears, the visibility of the LGBTQ community is very limited, and this becomes a cycle,” he explains.
Talian is familiar with cases in which LGBTQ persons in Banja Luka were the victims of attacks, both physical and verbal. “I know a guy who was beaten several times solely because of his sexual orientation, then was subjected to various insults and intimidation, I know of teenagers being thrown out on the street after coming out to their parents, violence at school because of assumptions about someone’s sexuality. This widespread abuse is one of the reasons why LGBTQ people do not feel safe nor accepted in society, and therefore seek a sense of belonging in other cities and countries,” Talian says.
To counter this, support from family and friends and protection from the state is crucial. For members of the LGBTQ community, it is important for them to know that if they are subjected to verbal or physical attacks, the perpetrators of these crimes will be brought to justice. Further, the protection of their rights by the authorities would help them to feel more secure and accepted in society as a whole. According to Talian, there have been some improvements made by the state, but they have been limited.
“One thing that is important to note is the various changes in laws relating to criminal offences committed out of hatred for or discrimination against LGBTQ people. Another is the Government of Republika Srpska’s adoption of an annual operating plan for the implementation of the “Gender Action Plan, which involves concrete measures for the promotion and protection of LGBTQ rights. So, within the legal framework, there is some progress, but it is still necessary to work in the ‘field’ to directly assist the LGBTQ community,” Talian adds.
One of the community’s most important requests is, in fact, quite modest: it expects the city to provide a space where members can feel safe and free to be who they are, without fear of attack or condemnation. There are many ways to realize this goal, as long as it is approached with a positive attitude and goodwill.
“It is important to show positive images of the LGBTQ community in the media and for students to learn about LGBTQ issues objectively, not from the subjective viewpoints of the teachers. Of course, this is an important time for advocacy and for legal reforms, but that there are many other things that we must also accomplish. One positive thing I would like to point out is the increasing presence of LGBTQ persons in the arts, film and music,” Talian explains.
The LGBTQ population from Banja Luka was recently at the center of another controversy. Throughout the city and along the Vrbas River, graffiti created by members of the LGBTQ community began to appear. Some citizens of Banja Luka were upset by this, and the LGBTQ community faced a backlash as a result.
“As far as graffiti is concerned, I don’t see this as the wrong way to send a message. It is a great way to show the visibility and the existence of LGBTQ people in the community. This is a form of activism that has been used for a long time. There are certainly different approaches, but it is important to show that public spaces belong to everyone, not just to a few privileged individuals or groups. Unfortunately, we still live in a closed-minded society and it will take time to move from graffiti to more serious forms of activism as a means to promote and protect LGBTQ rights,” Talian concludes.

author: Andrea Aleksić


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The Parents of Tuzla’s Murdered Youth are Still waiting for Justice | Balkan Diskurs
Velma Saric
May 24th, 2017
Although 22 years have passed since the shells were fired from Mount Ozren into the downtown area of Tuzla known as Kapija, the victims’ families are still waiting for justice. During the massacre, the Army of Republika Srpska (VRS) killed 71 and wounded more than 140.
Although 25 years have passed since the shells were fired from Mount Ozren into the downtown area of Tuzla known as Kapija, the victims’ families are still waiting for justice. During the massacre, the Army of Republika Srpska (VRS) killed 71 and wounded more than 140.
Novak Đukić, the former commander of the VRS’s “Ozren” Tactical Group, has fled to Serbia for medical treatment and his defense has requested a retrial before the Court of Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH). A statement released by court officials responsible for sentencing Đukić to 20 years in prison for the crimes committed in Tuzla, declared: “The decision on this request is still pending.”
In October 2015, BiH submitted a request to Serbia to accept the verdict and to send Đukić to prison in Serbia to serve his sentence. The Higher Court in Belgrade, however, has repeatedly delayed proceedings on the recognition of the verdict due to Đukić’s poor health.
So far, only one person has been held accountable for the 71 lives lost, but, due to legal technicalities, that person remains at large.
The victims’ families have repeatedly approached investigating authorities with the names of those connected to the shelling of Tuzla’s downtown area, Kapija, but, according to the parents of the murdered children, their efforts have amounted to nothing.
“There were seven people from the VRS squad responsible for firing the shell on that fateful night. Their names were published in the media, we delivered them to the investigative authorities, but it’s as if we never did,” says Arif Ahmetašević, whose daughter Edina was killed during the shelling. Ahmetašević was also once a member of the Commission for the Civilian Victims of War.
The Prosecutor’s Office told the victims’ families that they had tried to go after those identified before later announcing that they had been unavailable for investigation.
“They allegedly looked for them. We were told they were in Serbia and that they had assumed new identities,” Ahmetašević adds.
Đukić was tried in BiH for crimes against civilians, one of the most heinous crimes of the war in Bosnia.
In January 2014, the Constitutional Court of BiH upheld the appeal of Novak Đukić, ruling that both the Constitution of BiH and the European Convention on Human Rights had been violated, thereby quashing the verdict of the Court of BiH, which, on 6 April 2010, sentenced Đukić to 25 years in prison.
The 2010 verdict was overturned by the Bosnian Constitutional Court because instead of applying the Criminal Code of former Yugoslavia during his trial, which was the code in effect during the time Đukić committed the crimes for which he was charged, the 2003 Criminal Code of Bosnia and Herzegovina was retroactively applied.
The Case is Closed
For the parents of the murdered children, this was all just a legal farce and a political compromise.
“Đukić’s verdict put an end to the ‘Kapija’ case. Everyone is satisfied except the parents. He lives in freedom, better off than all of us whose children have been murdered. I’m afraid of an even worse scenario, which is that the Court in Belgrade will acquit him completely. It’s all just politics and deals. It is my right to suspect that, as the parent of a murdered child. Is it not shameful that the parents must take the lead to provide evidence and archival materials to the investigation?” wonders Hilmo Bučuk, whose daughter Lejla was killed.
The average age of those killed and wounded was 23 years old. But the youngest victim, Sandro Kalesić, was only three. The boy, whose parents were celebrating their anniversary, was killed in his father’s arms. A piece of shrapnel hit him directly in the heart.
“It was our wedding anniversary. We hadn’t planned on going out that night because I was supposed to go to the hospital for a checkup. Still, we headed for Kapija where we intended to buy sandwiches and drink some juice. Sandro did not want to get out of the car for nearly an hour and a half. He liked to sit in the car and play with the steering wheel. Together, we entered the cafe and, just minutes before the grenades fell, we moved into the garden,” recalls Dino Kalesić.
Dino remembers how the celebration of his wedding anniversary on a beautiful, sunny day, was interrupted by a horrific explosion.
“Suddenly there was a horrific explosion. Dust was all around us. A terrifying image. I looked at Sandro. He just held his hand on his ear and sobbed. I just thought it was the fear. He probably never even knew he had been hit. I grabbed him and went into the neighboring building, fearing another round of shelling. I put him on my chest and only then did I feel the blood that had seeped through his shirt. Only one small hole, like a grain of rice. We ran to the car and rushed to the hospital. I think he died just as we passed through the hospital gates. Doctors tried resuscitating him, but it was all in vain,” says Kalesić.
That Thursday, 25 May 1995, has also remained etched in the memory of Asim Hadžiselimović. After days of heavy rains, there appeared a day bathed in sunlight. It was a day different from any other, and one that, unfortunately, will forever be inscribed with black letters in the annals of the city.
Cries, Moans, Screams
“No words exist to describe what happened. Until that moment, we were all cheerful and happy to see each other. After the blast and the flash, all you could hear was crying, moaning, screaming… My right leg was hit by shrapnel and my friends Nenad, Ago, Alem and Azur were killed not far from a parked Zastava 101 car, and, a bit further from them, Ivana, Lejla and Selma were also killed… I managed to crawl some 10 meters further and hide in a passageway because I was expecting a second explosion,” Hadžiselimović recalls.
The surviving young men and women started helping the wounded and taking them to the Gradina hospital. Asim Hadžiselimović was taken to the Tuzla hospital in a Škoda Favorit.
“A father came looking for his son and I was transported in his car together with several other dead and wounded. I talked to some who later succumbed to their injuries at the Gradina Hospital. I remember talking to Garo and Munje, but, unfortunately, they later died. My godfather Čili was with me the whole time and I can still hear the doctor saying that there was nothing they could do to save my right leg and that they would have to amputate,” says Hadžiselimović. After many years of treatment in Denmark, doctors managed to save his leg.
Only three months after the tragedy in Kapija, Arif Ahmetašević, a member of the Army of BiH and father of Edina who was killed that day, was part a unit that captured a group of VRS soldiers stationed at Ozren, the mountain from which the artillery shell was fired on Tuzla.
“This was in August 1995. I acted humanely and rationally, even though many people later asked me how I was able to remain calm. I only asked the soldiers whether they knew anything about the shelling. They told me that they hadn’t been on duty that night. Allegedly, they had only heard about the Kapija massacre,” Ahmetašević recalls.
Ten years later, Ahmetašević was recognized as the 2005 International Humanist and awarded the Golden Charter “Linus Pauling” with Plaque and Golden Badge by the International League of Humanists from Graz. The Citizen’s Association “Front,” an organization dedicated to the protection of human rights and the fight against state torture, also appointed him as an honorary member in 2008.
He says that, still today, he would repeat his actions, although his faith in justice is lost.
“I don’t think justice exists and I don’t believe the parents of these murdered children will ever live to see it if it does. I have lost faith in the justice system, and I don’t believe in courts or this country,” he says.
The victims of the Kapija massacre:
Suzan Abdulismail, Edina Ahmetašević, Elvis Alagić Enko, Admir Alispahić, Lejla Atiković, Asmir Bakalović, Adnan Beganović, Damir Bojkić, Indira Borić, Ivana Bošnjaković, Elma Brguljak, Lejla Bučuk, Sanja Čajić, Selma Čaušević, Amir Čekić, Samir Čirak Ćiro, Almasa Ćerimović, Zada Dedić, Razija Djedović, Amir Đapo, Suzana Dušić, Amir Đuzel, Muris Fatušić, Ago Hadžić, Hamdija Hakić, Senad Hasanović, Šemsa Hasečić, Alem Hidanović, Nedim Hodžić, Hasan Hrustanović, Adnan Hujdurović, Elvira Hurić, Almir Jahić, Azur Jogunčić, Sandro Kalesić, Franc Kantor, Damir Kurbašić, Vanja Kurbegović, Vesna Kurtalić, Sulejman Mehanović, Pera Marinović, Nenad Marković, Amira Mehinović, Edin Mehmedović, Edisa Memić, Adrijana Milić, Nešet Mujanović, Edin Mujabašić, Samir Mujić, Elvir Murselović, Šaban Mustačević, Dijana Ninić, Selma Nuhanović, Indira Okanović, Rusmir Ponjavić, Raif Rahmani, Fahrudin Ramić, Nedim Rekić, Jasminko Rosić, Nihada Šišić, Armin Šišić, Senahid Salamović, Edhem Sarajlić, Jasminka Sarajlić, Aim Slijepčević, Savo Stjepanović, Jelena Stojičić, Ilinka Tadić, Azur Vantić, Mustafa Vuković i Adnan Zaimović.

author: Velma Saric


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“As long as they are not shooting…”: Political Culture and Participation in Bosnia-Herzegovina | Balkan Diskurs
Andreas Wiendel Rasmussen
May 27th, 2017
The recent 20-year anniversary of the Dayton Peace Agreement reified the prospects for change in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Central to these prospects are the ways in which Bosnian citizens think and act politically.
The recent 20-year anniversary of the Dayton Peace Agreement reified the prospects for change in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Central to these prospects are the ways in which Bosnian citizens think and act politically.
In the early spring of 2014, widespread protests broke out in Bosnia-Herzegovina (BiH). Thousands of Bosnians of all ages, ethnicities and backgrounds – workers, students, pensioners – took to the streets of Bosnia’s largest cities in a collective sign of frustration, fed up with high unemployment, low pensions, unscrupulous privatization, political stagnation and corruption. In what proved to be the most widespread and persistent example of political activism in Bosnia since the end of the war, the conflict lines were drawn not along ethnic but socioeconomic lines.
The protests eventually developed into more formalized citizens’ assemblies, or plenums. Here, ordinary citizens presented both their concerns and concrete demands, which were debated and subsequently brought to local, cantonal and Federation (one of Bosnia’s two sub-state entities) governments. Echoing this discontent, a June 2014 poll revealed that more than 90% of citizens believed the country was moving in the wrong direction and more than 75% were dissatisfied with the performance of entity governments.
Nonetheless, the enormous popular dissatisfaction and political energy found in the protests and plenums did not manifest itself at the ballots only half a year later. The October 2014 general elections in Bosnia saw a voter turnout of just above 54% – a decrease of two percentage points from 2010 and continuing the general post-war trend of decreasing election participation. At the same time, the old parties with traditionally ethno-nationalist agendas – SDA (Bosniaks), SDS (Serbs) and HDZ BiH (Croats) – all increased their vote share, coined by one observer as the “return of the Big Three.”
However surprising this electoral result may seem against such a background, it is symptomatic of the attitude toward the role of politics – particularly elections – in Bosnian society. In trying to better understand the factors at play here and explain their outcomes, this article examines political participation and, more broadly, the political culture in Bosnia and attempts to contribute to a basis on which to assess the prospects of internally driven change.
To Vote or Not to Vote
Elections are a central arena for political participation and a key function of any representative democracy. Examining the reasons why people do or do not vote in Bosnia gives insight into their perceptions related to political participation and the role of elections as an instrument for change.
First, the belief that casting one’s vote will simply make no difference in outcome is central to voting abstention. According to a study by Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung (FES) on the characteristics of abstainers and voters in the 2012 Local Elections in Bosnia, the most popular reason for not voting is that “it will not help me.” The sentiment that “nothing will change anyway” may be the result of a system that allows for extensive veto rights to defend the “vital national interests” of the three constituent peoples (Bosniaks, Serbs and Croats). This provision has prompted continuous political blockades– especially when it comes to the issue of constitutional reform, which has long been called for by locals and internationals alike and is central to Bosnia’s EU accession prospects.
Second, there is a general lack of trust among Bosnians in the country’s political institutions. Only one out of seven citizens (14.3%) trusts political parties, according to a July 2014 survey conducted by Analitika.At the same time, governmental and parliamentary bodies enjoy significantly less trust (between 22.1% and 25.7%) than do religious institutions, the media, the NGO sector and the police and armed forces (+50%). The same pattern is also found among non-voters, who, in general, have even less trust in institutions than do voters.
Third, many Bosnians do not find their views represented in mainstream political discourse. “The ideological debate in this country is non-existent…. [Political parties in Bosnia] just don’t exist as ideological parties,” says political scientist at the Sarajevo School of Science and Technology, Adnan Huskić. Instead, he says that parties, to a large extent, define themselves in terms of ethnicity, regardless of what ideological differences they may have. This may explain the FES study’s finding that “voters are greater nationalists than non-voters,” while values such as “cosmopolitanism and liberalism are predominantly present in the respondents who never vote.” The value systems of non-voters are not widely represented at the political level. While this leads some to “vote for the lesser evil,” it also suggests why the second-most given reason for not voting is that “there is no one to vote for.”
The motivations for non-voters are clear, but what about those who actually do vote? What are their incentives? Why do they participate in elections and why do they vote for particular candidates?
“We have a huge public administration,” says Jasmina Čolić, Acting Coordinator at Koalicija 143 (K-143), a civic coalition advocating for constitutional reform.
“There are many, many employees, and to get a position in any of the public enterprises… you need to have a political party affiliation. So, if you take into account the number of people who are employed by public enterprises, those represent the electorate. They are not going to bite the hand that feeds them, right? Nor will they undermine the branch they are sitting on,” states Colić.
In a country with one of the world’s highest unemployment rates (25.8%)as well as the world’s highest youth unemployment rate (67.6%) (statistics do not include Bosnia’s substantial informal-sector employment), close ties between public employees and political parties incentivize employees to use their vote to maintain the status quo as a means of security for themselves and their families. This incentive may trump ideological or other preferences.
Such a dynamic favors the old, large and incumbent parties and may well account for the motivations of a substantive portion of Bosnian voters. According to Huskić, “What [the parties in power] do through public procurement is broaden their clientele base. For private companies, their biggest employer is the state in terms of giving them jobs and projects to do”.
Huskić notes that of those who do vote during elections, “at least 90% are those clientele that strictly adhere to their ties with certain political parties. This is why we have such repetitive electoral patterns.”
An examination of voters and non-voters may thus suggest why elections are not widely perceived or used as a vehicle for political and social change in Bosnia, hence the low voter turnout and repetitive electoral patterns. Looking at extra-electoral forms of political participation does not alter this picture significantly. Civil society, a favored area of focus for Bosnia’s international community provides an alternative avenue for citizens to influence their politicians, however, this sector has neither a strong popular foundation nor sufficient capacity or institutional support to challenge – or even supplement – state structures. Instead, “one of the main characteristics of BiH civil society is its overall weakness and inability to hold the state accountable,” which is mainly due to “the constant fragmentation along ethno-religious lines.”
Tracing Political Culture
The nature and extent of political participation in any one country or region is, to some extent, reflective of the specific political culture of that area and is a product of specific historical circumstances. In Bosnia’s case, two often cited historical factors stand out as particularly influential in shaping today’s political culture.
The first is Bosnia’s legacy of socialist rule from the end of World War II until its independence in 1992. Its reliance on, and subjugation to, the state and a single communist party for the provision of all services largely discouraged civil initiatives, the development of a cohesive civil society culture, and a sense of individual agency.
The perception of oneself as a political actor with the ability to influence change was not nurtured in the minds of Bosnians during this period. This dynamic continues to influence people’s thinking today through what Jelena Brkić Šmigoc, an expert on political will in Bosnia, coins “cognitive schemas.”
“I would dare to say that we [Bosnians] ‘live’ under a cognitive schema of belief in the impossibility to change the current state of affairs, the schema of so-called learned helplessness.”
As such, there is a very low level of political efficacy among Bosnians, understood as “the feeling that political and social change is possible, and that the individual citizen can play a part in bringing about this change.”
Another decisive factor shaping today’s political culture in Bosnia was the war of 1992-1995. While the collectivism of communist ideology was on retreat, it was replaced not by a new civic identity but by a myriad of ethno-national identities. In what Mary Kaldor has described as “a war against civil society,” people’s ethnic identities were sharpened and the first free multiparty elections saw the vast majority of votes going to the three ethnically based parties – ‘the Big Three’.
As ethnicity continues to be the most important indicator of identity for over 70% of the population, and broad, civic-based action is heavily confined by ethnicity and is consequently fragmented. Bosnia is “a tremendously atomized society,” says Huskić. “Our understanding of our role in society and what we can do as a society or community is very limited.”
Yet another consequence of the war is reflected in the saying “samo nek ne puca…”, “as long as they are not shooting…”. After experiencing and surviving the worst atrocities a society could face, anything is better in comparison. This has lowered the threshold for what is not considered as acceptable. As one commentator notes, “the war years left such deep traumas that anger about the way politicians have prospered while standards of living have declined has been suppressed out of fear of a return to conflict.”
This does not discourage political participation per se (people still go to vote for parties and politicians they find corrupt and do not trust) but it discourages political participation to bring about change, as people are willing to settle for what they already have. A common thread among interviewees is that the nationalistic parties deliberately feed this fear of what the future might bring because they benefit from the status quo, thus actively supporting a political culture unsupportive of change.
Where, then, does this leave young Bosnians born after communism and the last war? In terms of electoral participation, the 2014 elections saw a 51.6% voter turnout for 18- to 30-year-olds, which was slightly below the overall turnout average. Three out of four persons aged 16 to 30 claim not to be interested in politics. Regarding other forms of participation, such as membership of political parties or youth organizations, direct contact with politicians, or participation in public debates or online political discussions, youth involvement is generally low. Out of the variety of factors that contribute to low levels of political participation among youth, a key element is likely the transmission of existing cognitive schemas through the sectors of society responsible for political socialization such as the family and school systems Political culture is a relatively stable structure, embedded in the formal and informal structures of society, which makes it resistant to change and, allows it to pass from one generation to another.
Despite all this, thousands of Bosnians took concrete political action during the protests and plenums in Spring 2014. These political manifestations were – in the Bosnian context – unique in their longevity, spread and non-ethnic character. Against the background of a poor record of political participation, especially in the forms of demonstrations and citizen’s assemblies, they stood out as extraordinary and unprecedented.
Several commentators referred to them as a “Bosnian Spring”. According to Ines Tanović, a member of the Sarajevo plenum and coordinator for inter-plenum cooperation, they were “the most positive thing in this country in the 20 years since the war ended.” The events led to some tangible results, including the resignation of a handful of cantonal government officials and the agreement of some others to cut certain economic privileges for politicians.
Despite these wins, the main achievement of the protests and plenums, in Tanović’s eyes, derives from their uniqueness as popular political actions and the change in citizens’ awareness of their roles as political actors.
While political culture typically fosters a certain type of political participation, the protests and plenums, in many respects, reversed the direction of influence from participation to culture. “Before, you couldn’t imagine that people would take to the streets because a gas station was being built in a park in front of their building. Now you have thousands of people protesting against just that,” Tanović explains,
Prospects for Change from Within?
Considering the decline in international presence and interventionism in Bosnia over the last decade, the importance of Bosnians’ own agency and involvement in trying to change a situation that they do not approve of is only increasing. So, how can Bosnia’s citizenry assume this responsibility? How can their discontent be turned into action that brings with it the potential for change?
In terms of electoral participation and change from within the existing structures, at least two potential ways forward can be identified. One is the introduction of compulsory voting, advocated by Huskić. Such arrangement would have the dual advantage of increasing – albeit by obliging – citizens’ political participation and thus activating the politically dormant voting body (which could be seen as a form of political education). At the same time, it would make “political parties a bit more cautious when it comes to addressing not only their own group but having to expand.”
Another and more “natural” means of progress that could have the potential to increase electoral participation and political literacy would be the emergence of new political movements with different agendas, values and modi operandi. New parties could potentially activate the interests and agency of the large group of non-voters, especially those who do not find their views represented in the current system. In a country that was, until relatively recently, under communist rule for almost half a century, the political left is almost non-existent today, according to many of Balkan Diskurs’ interviewees.
“We do not have [a] true Social Democracy in this country,” says Jasmina Čolić. “There are many Social Democrats in both entities, but they have ruined the image of what social democracy is all about.”
Huskić supports this view. He explains “Nominally, there are Social Democrats in this country and there are parties which tend to be somewhat center-right…, but in terms of content, there is no difference whatsoever.” As an example, Huskić mentions the Alliance of Independent Social Democrats (SNSD) of Milorad Dodik, president of the Republika Srpska (RS). The RS, one of Bosnia’s two state entities, has, since 2006, taken an increasingly radical, nationalist line and now advocates for RS independence.
In the Federation entity, Huskić points to the recent left-right government coalitions between the Social Democratic Party (SDP) and SDA, “which were unthinkable before.” SDP consequently suffered its worst ever electoral defeat in the 2014 elections. Notwithstanding the rise of the civic-based Democratic Front (DF), this suggests that there is considerable vacant space for progressive, civic and left-wing parties in Bosnia’s political landscape – especially parties that embody such values.
Despite the plenum movement’s outright resistance to interfering with mainstream politics in 2014, the tone is now somewhat different and a political solution is no longer completely out of the question.
“I think that we are becoming more mature in that we are at least thinking about and discussing solutions, which was something that we didn’t want to do before,” says Tanović. “Sometimes you need to enter the institutions in order to change something, and the more I think about that, the more I’m becoming aware that a political solution, a political party that would generate all those ideas we had…could have a positive impact on the political system in Bosnia.”
According to Tanović, raising citizens’ political and civic awareness is a crucial step.towards further instigating Bosnians’ involvement in changing their country’s political path for the better.
“One of the things I realized after the protests, was the need for further education among people,” Tanović says. “Education in the sense that they realize they hold their destiny in their own hands. But, they need to know much more about their political system and its policies in order to change something.”
A number of local initiatives, such as Izboromat and Javna Rasprava are working to tackle the challenges to political participation by seeking to better inform, involve and motivate the public. Such programs can provide a channel for communication between citizens and politicians through easily accessible, user-friendly and interactive online portals. Tanović points to new, bottom-up initiatives and grassroots movements that are continuing their efforts to build on the networks created during the protests. One such movement is the independent trade union Solidarnost (Solidarity) based in Tuzla. “This work in the field and on the ground is extremely important. It’s the only way to generate new movements to change the political system,” she says.
The same education-focused rationale lies at the heart of K-143. This coalition of Bosnian civil society organizations does not see many prospects for change within the existing structures. “Considering the fact that the elections are not fair, we can’t really make any changes via the ballot boxes,” says Jasmina Čolić. Instead, the potential for change is found by giving direction to the public’s discontent and by gathering them behind a shared political project.
Accordingly, K-143 is working to build a state-wide civic constituency for their proposed municipalization model– a model for constitutional reform that entails a shift from the current multi-level system of governance to a two-level structure that abolishes the middle layers of government (entities and cantons) and strengthens it at the state and local levels. In their efforts “to build that critical mass,” K-143 gives presentations and engages local communities during visits to each of Bosnia’s 143 municipalities. The coalition believes that their model can serve as a concrete and unifying approach to mobilize and empower discontented, but resigned citizens, to sustain grassroots pressure – something that the protests and plenums did not manage to do. As Čolić explains, “There was no joint agenda [from the protests and plenums] and this is exactly what we are offering: a framework for a new social contract.”
Whichever model proves to be the ultimate model for change, it is becoming more and more clear that the change will be incremental rather than abrupt or revolutionary. According to Huskić, accepting this fact may itself be an impetus for an increase in the level of political participation that necessary in order to have a positive impact on the prospects for reform.
Huskić concludes, “We are all waiting for something to happen, but change is not going to come if they [citizens] don’t participate in this system…a return to a genuine political activism through political parties and the civil society organizations is the only way to go.”
References
[1] National Democratic Institute (2014), “Bosnia and Herzegovina’s 2014 Elections: Post-Election Analysis”, National Democratic Institute, https://www.ndi.org/files/NDI%20BiH%202014%20Post-Election%20Analysis.pdf.
[2] Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance (IDEA), Voter turnout data for Bosnia and Herzegovina, http://www.idea.int/vt/countryview.cfm?id=18
[3] Adnan Huskić (2014), “Elections in Bosnia and Herzegovina: A Revolution, Evolution or Stagnation?”, Contemporary Southeastern Europe, vol. 1, no. 2, p. 105.
[4] Srdjan Puhalo & Neda Perisic (2013), “Abstainers in Bosnia and Herzegovina: The Invisible Side of Elections”, Publication summary, Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung.
[5] Saša Gavrić, Damir Banović & Mariña Barreiro (2013), “The Political System of Bosnia and Herzegovina: Institutions – Actors – Processes”, Sarajevo Open Center, p. 71.
[6] Analitika – Center for Social Research (2014), Survey Results: A High Level of Distrust in Political Parties and Government Institutions in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Fact sheet, http://www.analitika.ba/en/publications/survey-results-high-level-distrust-political-parties-and-government-institutions-bosnia
[7] Tanović, Ines (2015), political activist, member of the Sarajevo plenum and coordinator for inter-plenum cooperation, Personal Interview, October 2015.
[8] The World Bank, Unemployment, total (% of total labor force), Data, http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/SL.UEM.TOTL.ZS/countries?order=wbapi_data_value_2014+wbapi_data_value+wbapi_data_value-last&sort=desc.
[9] The World Bank, Unemployment, youth total (% of total labor force ages 15-24) (modeled ILO estimate), Data, http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/SL.UEM.1524.ZS?order=wbapi_data_value_2014+wbapi_data_value+wbapi_data_value-last&sort=desc.
[10] Gorana Krstić & Peter Sanfey (2006), “Mobility, poverty and well-being among the informally employed in Bosnia and Herzegovina”, Working paper, European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, http://www.ebrd.com/downloads/research/economics/workingpapers/wp0101.pdf
[11] Bedrudin Brljavac (2011), “Civil Society in Bosnia – obstacle or opportunity?”, TransConflict, http://www.transconflict.com/2011/11/civil-society-in-bosnia-obstacle-opportunity-411/
[12] Saša Gavrić, Damir Banović & Mariña Barreiro (2013), “The Political System of Bosnia and Herzegovina: Institutions – Actors – Processes”, Sarajevo Open Center, p. 82.
[13] Saša Gavrić, Damir Banović & Mariña Barreiro (2013), “The Political System of Bosnia and Herzegovina: Institutions – Actors – Processes”, Sarajevo Open Center, p. 69.
[14] George I. Balch (1974), “Multiple Indicators in Survey Research: The Concept ‘Sense of Political Efficacy’”, Political Methodology, vol. 1, no. 2, p. 1.
[15] Saša Gavrić, Damir Banović & Mariña Barreiro (2013), “The Political System of Bosnia and Herzegovina: Institutions – Actors – Processes”, Sarajevo Open Center, p. 70.
[16] Tim Judah (2014), “Bosnian protests: A Balkan Spring?”, BBC, 07.02.2014, http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-26093160.
[17] Central Election Commission Bosnia and Herzegovina (2015), Izborni pokazatelji 2002-2014. godina, https://www.izbori.ba/Documents/2015/25052015/Izborni_Pokazatelji_2002-2014.pdf
[18] Commission for the Coordination of Youth Issues et al. (2008), Analysis of the Position of Young People and the Youth Sector in BiH, http://www.mladi.gov.ba/pdf/Mladi_politika-EN_final.pdf
[19] Adnan Huskić (2015), political scientist at the Sarajevo School of Science and Technology, Personal Interview, October 2016.
[20] Adnan Huskić (2014), “Elections in Bosnia and Herzegovina: A Revolution, Evolution or Stagnation?”, Contemporary Southeastern Europe, vol. 1, no. 2, p. 104.

author: Andreas Wiendel Rasmussen


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ArcelorMittal’s Azra Sivro: On Industry, Pollution and Environmental Protection in Zenica | Balkan Diskurs
Abdullah Kozlić
May 31st, 2017
For some time now, the public has criticized the ArcelorMittal steel plant in Zenica because of its direct ties to air pollution in this Bosnian-Herzegovinian town. Balkan Diskurs correspondent Adullah Kozlić spoke with ArcelorMittal’s Environmental Protection Manager, Azra Sivro, about potential solutions to this problem, as well as the company’s plans for the future.
For some time now, the public has criticized the ArcelorMittal steel plant in Zenica because of its direct ties to air pollution in this Bosnian-Herzegovinian town. Balkan Diskurs correspondent Adullah Kozlić spoke with ArcelorMittal’s Environmental Protection Manager, Azra Sivro, about potential solutions to this problem, as well as the company’s plans for the future.
“In addition to the fact that the town of Zenica is situated in a valley with poor air flow, the combination of weather, a large number of domestic furnaces and old cars, and other industrial facilities and sources of emission has a significant impact on the town’s air quality. What is apparent from all the data that present air quality measurements, other cities in Bosnia and Herzegovina such as Sarajevo and Tuzla experience a similar situation, especially during the winter months, but these cities don’t have industrial steel plants,” Azra Sivro explains.
According to Sivro, before ArcelorMittal’s arrival to Zenica, investments in environmental protection were almost non-existent. Sivro claims that the company is trying to solve problems that have been neglected for over 100 years.
“It is important to understand that the steelworks industry in Zenica is quite unique in many respects. In fact, most of the plants were out of commission for nearly 17 years until ArcelorMittal arrived in 2004 and replaced the old facilities and infrastructure,” Sivro states.
One of the main problems that is frequently emphasized in association with the ArcelorMittal plant is its lack of filters for waste matter discharge.
Sivro reported that, by the end of 2016, the company was planning the implementation of two projects: the installation of a new pusher car and coke oven battery, which will reduce the emission of flue gas, and the reconstruction of electronic filter number four followed by its attachment to sinter machine number five.
Sivro further explained that the reconstruction consists of the application of hybrid filtration — which means installing an electrostatic precipitator and a fabric filter. She adds that all new filters are in accordance with the laws of the Federation of BiH and the standards of the European Union, and the BAT recommendations (Best Available Techniques).
The media have portrayed ArcelorMittal as a ruthless corporate system that doesn’t care about the local community or the citizens of Zenica. Sivro clarifies that the company is well aware of the complex situation regarding environmental protection in Zenica, but the responsibility cannot be attributed to only one side and there is a multitude of objective factors that influence the environment.
“ArcelorMittal Zenica is also a part of this local community and it is working hard to reduce its impact on the environment. The company’s goal is to reduce the emissions to the lowest possible levels so as to comply with the laws of BiH. Since arriving in Zenica, the company has continuously invested in environmental protection programs. This is another indicator of our commitment to building a healthy and long-term future for steel production that benefits everyone in Zenica economically, environmentally, and in terms of general prosperity for both the residents of the town and for the town itself,” stated Sivro.
According to Sivro, the solution to air pollution problem in Zenica should be sought systematically and should consider all the factors that contribute to it.
“According to official data, Zenica has around 40,000 individual household furnaces that use domestic coal with a very high sulfur content (up to 3.5%). Thus, the SO emissions from our facilities represent only 20% of the total SO emissions in the Zenica valley. As we have emphasized many times before, the city needs to find a long-term solution to this problem as our equipment is very old and also uses local coal,” Sivro explained.
She ends the interview with the message that the company is consistently working to reduce its emissions and will continue to do so moving forward.
“We must be aware that the dynamics of investing in environmental protection programs depend on the sustainability of the company and that the steel market throughout Europe is currently experiencing very difficult times,” Sivro concluded.

author: Abdullah Kozlić


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Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and the Visual Arts (Part I) | Balkan Diskurs
Bruce Clezy
June 5th, 2017
What role can the visual arts play in public health? How can a nation recover from mental health trauma when there are clearly not enough psychologists and psychiatrists to support them? Registered nurse Bruce Clezy presents a 6-part publication series exploring Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and the visual arts.
What role can the visual arts play in public health? How can a nation recover from mental health trauma when there are clearly not enough psychologists and psychiatrists to support them? Registered nurse Bruce Clezy presents a 6-part publication series exploring Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and the visual arts.
The Post-Conflict Research Center (PCRC) is a non-governmental organization based in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina dedicated to restoring a culture of peace and preventing violent conflict in the Western Balkans by creating, implementing and supporting unconventional and innovative approaches to peace education, post-conflict research, human rights and transitional justice. Their commissioned works in public sculpture, photography, mixed media and film say much about the effects of war on a population. The implications of their work for mental health has, however, not been fully explored.
This publication “mini-series” is designed to try to address this imbalance. Over the next three weeks I will explore three different art projects produced by the PCRC. Each week, I will present information about PTSD as a public health issue and then examine an art piece as it relates to the issues raised in the hopes that each article will be informative for a general audience, but will also be relevant to artists, arts administrators and public health practitioners alike. This week’s focus is on “One Million Bones”, PCRC’s recent installation that was part of the 20th anniversary of the Srebrenica Genocide, and, in particular, how it aims to reframe debates about war, memory and PTSD. But first, here are a few facts about PTSD.
What exactly is PTSD?
The World Health Organization (WHO) defines PTSD as “a delayed or protracted response to a stressful event or situation of an exceptionally threatening or catastrophic nature, which is likely to cause pervasive distress in almost anyone.”(WHO, 2013) Typical symptoms include: episodes of repeated reliving of the trauma in intrusive memories (“flashbacks”), dreams or nightmares, a persistent sense of “numbness” and emotional blunting, detachment from other people, unresponsiveness to surroundings, and avoidance of activities and situations reminiscent of the trauma (WHO, 2013). Many sufferers find it difficult to hold down a job. Alcoholism and substance abuse often result as people try to dull the memories. This further increases the chance of social isolation for sufferers. Crucially, PTSD is not only confined to veterans. It can affect anyone and is not just a result of war.
How is PTSD diagnosed?
Traumatic stress affects every individual in different ways. Symptoms also vary dramatically along cultural lines. For a diagnosis of PTSD, a person’s response to past trauma must include intense fear, helplessness and/or terror. People who experience symptoms for three months or less are said to be suffering acute PTSD. If the symptoms have existed for longer than three months, then they are diagnosed with chronic PTSD. If the symptoms appear for the first time at least six months after the traumatic event, then the person is considered to be suffering from delayed onset PTSD (Krippner, Pitchford & Davies 2012).
How prevalent is PTSD in the community?
A recent study of PTSD prevalence rates across populations who had experienced conflict worldwide showed that 15.4% of people interviewed reported symptoms of PTSD (Steel, Chey & Silove, 2009). Given the widespread exposure to severe trauma during the Balkans war, it is not surprising that rates of PTSD remain high in Bosnia. A 2010 study across the Balkans, for example, found that 35.4% of the Bosnians who responded had experienced some form of PTSD (Prieb, Bogic & Ajdukovic, 2010). This rate was almost double that of responders from any of the other four national groupings (Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, Kosovars) that were interviewed and had also experienced the Balkan wars.
How is PTSD treated?
Treatment is based on the individual needs of each patient, the severity of their diagnosis, and the type of PTSD they are experiencing (acute, chronic, delayed onset) and its causes. Treatment typically involves some kind of psychotherapy and/or medication. Current evidence recommends Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). While CBT has been shown to be more effective than medications, the availability of qualified therapists varies dramatically across countries and between cities. This lack of access to qualified therapists and individual choice means many sufferers decide to refuse therapy and take medications (Foa, Keane & Friedman, 2009).
Next up: On Memory and Forgetting: PCRC’s One Million Bones (Part II)
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Further reading:
Foa E B, Keane T M, Friedman M J, Cohen J A (eds). (2009). Effective treatments for PTSD: practice guidelines from the International Society for Traumatic Stress Studies. New York: Guilford Press, 2009.
Krippner S, Pitchford D B. & Davies J. (2012). Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Santa Barbara, California: Greenwood.
Priebe S, Bogic M, Ajdukovic D, Franciskovic T, Galeazzi G M, Kucukalic A, Lecic-Tosevski D, Morina N, Popovski M, Wang D, Schutzwohl M. (2010). Mental disorders following war in the Balkans: a study in 5 countries. Archives of General Psychiatry. May; 67 (5): 518-569.
Steel Z, Chey T, Silove D, Marnane C, Bryant R A, van Ommeren M. (2009)   Association of torture and other potentially traumatic events with mental health outcomes among populations exposed to mass conflict and displacement: a systematic review and meta-analysis. JAMA. Aug 5; 302 (5): 537-49.
World Health Organisation (2013). Guidelines for the management of conditions particularly related to stress. Geneva: World Health Organisation.

created: June 5th, 2017

author: Bruce Clezy


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On Memory and Forgetting: PCRC’s One Million Bones (Part II) | Balkan Diskurs
Bruce Clezy
June 6th, 2017
“To speak of public memory as the memory of publics is to speak of more than many individuals remembering the same thing. It is to speak of remembrance together, indeed of remembrance together as a crucial aspect of our togetherness, our existence as a public.”
“To speak of public memory as the memory of publics is to speak of more than many individuals remembering the same thing. It is to speak of remembrance together, indeed of remembrance together as a crucial aspect of our togetherness, our existence as a public.”
– Kendall Phillips, Framing Public Memory –
This is the second installment in our publication mini-series on Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and the visual arts. To begin at Part I of this series, click here.
In July 2015, the Post-Conflict Research Center (PCRC) laid out 13 tons of individually handcrafted, ceramic “bones” at the Potočari Cemetery and Memorial Center in Srebrenica, Bosnia-Herzegovina. Entitled One Million Bones: The Road to Srebrenica the installation marked the 20th anniversary of the Srebrenica genocide, the worst atrocity committed on European soil since the end of the Second World War. For a day, 100,000 “bones” lay glistening under the hot Balkan sun. As the sun set on the cemetery, the bones were packed up and once again stored away. As a memorial, the bones proved a stark reminder of what happened 20 years ago, but they also spoke of the suffering endured by many who survived the genocide and in particular the potential trauma of memory.
Despite its brief time on display, One Million Bones served as a public monument, and as such links itself with some of the other great monuments of the world. These include the Berlin Holocaust Memorial, the Washington Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the Sarajevo Roses, the Oklahoma City National Memorial and the AIDS Memorial Quilt. Like all monuments, it is designed to remember a particularly traumatic event in history and the pain it caused countless individuals. Unlike its contemporaries, however, what differentiates One Million Bones is that it is not the “official” monument, nor the “official” memory of the Srebrenica genocide, which would generally be ascribed to the Potočari Memorial Center and Cemetery. It is, in a sense, a kind of supplement, an “anti-monument” whose shocking and brief appearance is designed to tell us something more about what happened all those years ago, about the suffering of others, but also about how we remember. For the viewer, standing in the cemetery at Srebrenica, seeing the bones evokes emotionally charged images from the past, rupturing the present to inhabit our lived reality, only to be repressed and once again shut away. One Million Bones acts as a kind of “flashback.” It is the process and suffering of PTSD made real.
One Million Bones then asks us to remember the crucial role that memory itself played in the Bosnian War. Like most mass killings, the Bosnian Genocide attempted an erasure or an elimination of memory, what Assmann (2011) has defined as a “mnemocide.” For three months in late 1995, Bosnian Serb forces attempted to conceal evidence of the mass murders by removing bodies from primary mass graves and transporting them to secondary and tertiary gravesites around the country. This significantly impeded attempts by forensic scientists to identify human remains, but perhaps, more importantly, has hindered the ability of loved ones to find their relatives and give them the opportunity of a suitable burial. To this day many secondary and tertiary gravesites still remain undisclosed. Almost one thousand victims have still not been found. Hundreds of family members still have no place to go and remember, hindering their chance to grieve and to heal from the traumas of war, which include traumatic memories such as those experienced in PTSD.
One Million Bones elegantly re-enacts the conditions under which this mnemocide took place, but this time with a very different goal in mind. The bones were originally produced under the initiative of The Art of Revolution, in Albuquerque, New Mexico with the aid of thousands of survivors of genocide, as well as community and school groups from across the USA. The bones were then displayed on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. as a massive petition against ongoing genocide occurring around the world. Rather than replicating the process of constructing the bones, PCRC, in a symbolic “mass-exhumation,” imported 13 tons of the bones from the United States to Bosnia. While this process recalls the mnemocide that took place 20 years ago, it also speaks of the ongoing work by scientists and families to find and identify loved ones.
Given that there still exist high levels of denial related to the Bosnian Genocide, One Million Bones speaks to the processes of memory, forgetting and denial. Its purpose is to promote remembrance, but also to remind us how traumatic some memories can be. And it does this in a particularly public way. A startling feature of the display is that there is no attempt to individualize the victims of the tragedy. Unlike so many public memorials, this particular installation does not attempt to name those who were killed. There are no lists, no singular testimonies, and no pre-established narrative that attempts to present the connection between agents. This allows each visitor to bring his or her own personal memories to the sculpture. Each individual is confronted by a public memory, or what Kendall Phillips has called the “memories of publics.”One Million Bones is literally the collective memory of Srebrenica laid bare. This is important, for in a world that increasingly blames individuals for their memories, pathologizes them and then puts them on medications to “cure” them, One Million Bones reminds us that memories are indeed collective. They are the “threads” that bind us together and make us human.
Next up: A Brief History of Transgenerational Trauma (Part III)
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Further Reading:
Assmann A. (2011). Cultural Memory and Western Civilization: Functions, Media, Archives. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Phillips K R (ed). (2004). Framing public memory. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press.

created: June 6th, 2017


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Dear Bosnia: The Roma’s Struggle for Survival in a Post-war Society | Balkan Diskurs
Bridget Granger
June 9th, 2017
Would you risk your life in order to earn four BAM (two Euros)? Many Roma individuals do so on a daily basis. This perilous practice is but one indication of the multi-dimensional poverty facing the largest minority group of Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH). This photo story illuminates the daily adversities of the Roma population.
Would you risk your life in order to earn four BAM (two Euros)? Many Roma individuals do so on a daily basis. This perilous practice is but one indication of the multi-dimensional poverty facing the largest minority group of Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH). This photo story illuminates the daily adversities of the Roma population in BiH.
Photography: Sofia Yu
The Romani, or Roma, people are a nomadic ethnic group with a majority of their population residing in Europe. It is estimated that there are between 25,000 to 50,000 Roma individuals currently living in BiH, yet the constitutional framework of BiH does not recognize the Roma as an official minority group (European Roma Rights Centre, 2003). This inherently excludes the Roma population from certain privileges in the Bosnian government afforded to the three major ethnic groups, such as the opportunity to run for the Presidency. In addition to widespread institutional discrimination, Roma people must also combat discrimination on the social front. Public perception and labeling of the Roma as dishonest, unintelligent, dirty thieves have thrust the group onto the fringes of Bosnian society: often preventing them from obtaining jobs, housing contracts and bank loans.
BiH’s Roma population is further marginalized by bureaucratic requirements. Data suggests that over 2,000 Roma individuals lack birth certificates, and many more are without any form of identification (UNICEF, 2013). As a result, undocumented Roma individuals are unable to enjoy full citizenship, thus inhibiting access to social welfare programs, health care, and education.
In an effort to visualize the plight of BiH’s Roma people, Sofia Yu, a Portuguese independent photographer, spent ten days in a small Roma camp located in close proximity to the town of Lukavac in northern Bosnia. During her time in the camp, Yu captured the essence of the resilient Roma spirit by photographing their daily routines, livelihoods, and harsh living conditions.
In 2014, massive floods destroyed many of the shoddily constructed houses in the Roma camp, but the people received no assistance from the government for repairs or supplies. Roma individuals residing in these types of camps are further disadvantaged due to isolation. A 2009 Fundamental Rights survey discovered that most Roma settlements are extremely segregated from mainstream housing units, with scarce access to public gas, water and electric services (UNICEF, 2013).
Two out of every five Roma children will never set foot in a school, and among the children who do attend primary school, only 22.6% will begin a secondary education (UNICEF, 2013). Exclusion from the education system is one of the largest contributing factors to the staggeringly high unemployment rate among the Roma population of BiH. Additionally, Roma children are the most susceptible group in BiH to preventable diseases and malnourishment.
Despite the inconceivable hardships Mina has endured throughout her lifetime, she continues to smile and has been described by other residents in the Roma camp of Lukavac as an extraordinarily kind and outgoing woman. Mina is a widow who, like many elderly Roma women, is left with no choice but to travel to the city of Tuzla and beg for money in the streets. She is a victim of intersectional discrimination because she is a Roma, she is a female, and she is elderly, rendering her useless in the eyes of most employers. Younger Roma women experience this phenomenon as well, which is reflected in the 71% unemployment rate among Roma women (UNICEF, 2013).
Among Bosnian youth, the unemployment rate is 57.5% and it is even higher for Roma youth (UNICEF, 2013).
The sound of a piercing whistle and melodic “choo-choo….choo-choo…choo-choo” reverberate throughout the town of Lukavac when a fully-loaded coal train is prepared to depart from the local mine. To many Roma individuals, this sound signals opportunity. According to Yu, it is extremely common for younger Roma men to jump on these trains after they leave the mine and push coal from the tops of cargo wagons. Afterwards, they collect the coal from the ground and attempt to sell it in town.
Roma youth tend to carry out the job of stealing coal—an incredibly perilous process that unfolds in three stages. Immediately after a train departs from the Lukavac mine, individuals begin running towards a bend near the beginning of the railroad track. It is strategic for coal thieves to jump onto the train from this curve because here the trains decelerate significantly. This is sometimes the point at which police attempt to deter the thieves by kicking and pushing them off of the train. Other times, the police turn a blind eye with a semblance of understanding for their plight.
Looking ahead, the stigma and prejudices associated with the Roma people are ultimately barring them from fully integrating with the other ethnic groups of BiH. Acceptance is pivotal and begins with the Constitution of BiH legally recognizing the Roma as an official minority group. Furthermore, the government of BiH must actively work to bridge the gap regarding the Roma’s access to safe and adequate housing, employment opportunities, education, and healthcare. Until these deep-seated issues are addressed, the Roma people will continue to struggle.
References
European Roma Rights Centre, 2003.The non-constituents. Rights deprivation of Roma in post-genocide Bosnia and Herzegovina. [Online]
Available at:
[Accessed 2 August 2016].
UNICEF, 2013.The Status of Roma Children and Families in Bosnia and Herzegovina.[Online]
Available at:
[Accessed 21 July 2016].

created: June 9th, 2017

author: Bridget Granger


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From Prosecution to Pride: Goran Miletić on the Evolution of LGBT Activism in the Western Balkans | Balkan Diskurs
Samantha Owens
June 12th, 2017
Goran Miletić, Civil Rights Defenders’ Program Director for the Western Balkans, has been involved in LGBT and wider human rights activism since the early 1990s. Miletić sat down with Balkan Diskurs to discuss how the nature of LGBT activism in the Western Balkans has evolved over the course of his career, how he sees the current state of affairs and what he sees for the future of LGBT activism in the region.
Goran Miletić, Civil Rights Defenders’ Program Director for the Western Balkans, has been involved in LGBT and wider human rights activism since the early 1990s. Miletić sat down with Balkan Diskurs to discuss how the nature of LGBT activism in the Western Balkans has evolved over the course of his career, how he sees the current state of affairs and what he sees for the future of LGBT activism in the region.
Interview by: Blažka Felicijan
Yugoslavia was on its last legs as Goran Miletić was beginning his activism career in Serbia in the late 1980s. After moving to Belgrade to study in 1991, Miletić found his footing within the city’s activist circles, which, at that time, were organizing to oppose Serbia’s then president Slobodan Milošević. In 1992, Miletić became a part of Arkadija, Serbia’s first LGBT organization, which was also heavily involved in the peace movement of the period. Miletić was involved in human rights activism and anti-Milošević protests throughout the remainder of the 1990’s, eventually taking a job with the Humanitarian Law Center in 2000. Miletić describes his role at the Humanitarian Law Center as the “head of the section that was working with human rights – and part of human rights was, of course, LGBT rights – but there were also victims of torture, prisons, national minorities, Roma, etc.”
With over a decade of activism under his belt, Miletić joined the Civil Rights Defenders team—then known as the Swedish Helsinki Committee—in 2004. Since 2004, he has risen through the ranks of the organization and is now serving as Program Director for the Western Balkans. When sitting down with Miletić, he delved into the recent history of LGBT activism in the former Yugoslav states, as well as prospects for the future of the LGBT community in the Western Balkans.
Tracing Recent History
When tracing the region’s LGBT rights movement, specifically in Serbia, Miletić divides the movement into four “eras”: pre-1994, 1994-2000, 2000-2009, and 2009-present. The pre-1994 era was one of extreme oppression, during which “homosexuality was forbidden and where any media coverage about homosexuality was extremely exotic and something that you couldn’t imagine existed in anywhere in Europe.” The authorities’ tactics used before 1994 included the blackmail of LGBT community members to obtain information about other people. If they did not comply, they faced threats of prosecution, since homosexuality was still punishable by law.
Miletić describes the periods between 1994-2000 and 2000-2009 primarily as times of transition. Between 1994 and 2000, homosexuality was no longer a crime but was still seen as something exotic. After 2000, legal reforms forbidding discrimination on the basis of sexual preference began to take hold. While still lacking broad societal acceptance, the LGBT community at least began to gain basic legal protections.
Miletić regards 2009 as the turning point in the ‘modern era’ of LGBT rights. During this time, activists in Serbia organized their first successful pride event. They also lobbied heavily for a general anti-discrimination law—rather than the piecemeal, situation-specific laws in place in Serbia. In March of 2009, this general anti-discrimination law passed by a narrow majority in Serbia’s national assembly. Miletić subsequently refers to the period since 2009 as the ‘period of pride,’ during which major strides for the LGBT community have been made.
The Current Environment
According to Miletić, the pace of progress for LGBT persons in the Western Balkans varies across national borders. Miletić reflected on the prevalence of LGBT organizations in the former Yugoslavia, noting that this variance in numbers can generally be seen as reflective of the status of the LGBT community in each respective country. “[i]n Albania, we have three organizations; in Kosovo, we have three; in Montenegro, we have…three larger-scale organizations. In Serbia, however, we have around fifteen organizations. We currently have two organizations in Macedonia and more than ten in Croatian. In Bosnia, the numbers vary depending on what you count; there are some organizations that are registered and some that are unregistered,” Miletić explains.
The differences between countries, according to Miletić, can also be seen in how far LGBT organizations are willing to go to obtain visibility. In Serbia, Croatia, and Montenegro, for instance, there is “real pride.” In Tirana, there is an annual bike ride through the streets of the capital. In Priština, activists organize a walk. In Belgrade and Zagreb, you will find pride parades like those found in Western Europe and North America. In Skopje and Sarajevo, however, mass demonstrations of pride are still fairly difficult to plan and risky to carry out.
Despite the small strides the community has made, Miletić notes that widespread acceptance is not yet the norm, even among the younger generations. He describes a strong link between nationalism and anti-LGBT sentiment, noting nationalism’s prevalence among segments of the younger generation that rely on narratives from people who selectively explain why, how, and what happened during the war. In Miletić’s view, nationalism in the Western Balkans is largely linked to traditional conceptions of religion in their most oppressive forms. These reactionary, nationalist ideas leave no room for identities that counter tradition.
Looking Ahead
Regarding the future of the LGBT movement in the former Yugoslavia, Miletić puts a lot of stock in the power of visibility-raising events and campaigns. Events such as pride parades are not just for the LGBT community itself; they give members of the community and general public the space in which to embrace their LGBT identities. Miletić explains, “we are targeting the entire LGBT community; however, we are also targeting supporters of the LGBT community as well as people who would not normally support the LGBT community, but who find something interesting in pride week or in pride walks, and, therefore, attend such events out of curiosity.” In attracting people from outside of the community, pride events build bridges between LGBT persons and their non-LGBT peers, creating wider acceptance and further normalizing different sexual and gender identities.
Pride walks, bike rides, parades and festivals also serve to garner media attention, which gives the LGBT community an opportunity to challenge the negative narratives that surround their cause. Miletić believes that building a positive and cooperative relationship with local and national media “… takes time. And, although it takes time, such a relationship is crucial. If you are dealing with juries, with judges, with politicians, they are consuming media, they are reading newspapers. You need to have media on your side.”
The tide of public opinion began to turn in 2009 at the same time that several former Yugoslav countries were prompted to adhere to the pro-LGBT platform of the EU, driven by aspirations of EU accession. However, Miletić notes there is still much progress to be made and he believes that current public opinion remains predominantly negative. He describes the regional population’s stance over the past eight years as evolving from one that was “extremely homophobic” to one in which many people say ‘I have nothing against them,’ or ‘they can do whatever they want in their homes, but not in the streets.’
Looking to the future, he concludes, “There is still homophobia, but at least we have progressed.” He expresses his hope that, in the next five years, all those who oppose the LGBT movement will move towards tolerance and inclusivity and will embrace freedom of expression for the members of the community living in the Western Balkans.

author: Samantha Owens


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A Brief History of Transgenerational Trauma (Part III) | Balkan Diskurs
Bruce Clezy
June 13th, 2017
What role can the visual arts play in public health? How can a nation recover from mental health trauma when there are not enough psychologists and psychiatrists to support them?
What role can the visual arts play in public health? How can a nation recover from mental health trauma when there are not enough psychologists and psychiatrists to support them? In part III of our ongoing publication series exploring Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and the visual arts, registered nurse Bruce Clezy discusses the topic of transgenerational trauma. To begin at part I of this series, click here.
What is transgenerational trauma?
Transgenerational trauma (also known as intergenerational, multigenerational or cross-generational trauma) is the process by which the traumatic experience of one generation can be transferred to a second or even third generation. In cases of transgenerational trauma, children and grandchildren find themselves experiencing symptoms or “living out” certain experiences of the first generation and the original traumatic incident (de Mendelssohn, 2008). This process of transmission is largely seen as unconscious, i.e., parents do not intend to pass on the trauma to their offspring. It is important to note that transgenerational trauma is very different from the trauma one can experience when caring for someone one who has undergone a massive traumatic event (e.g., caregiver trauma, caregiver burden) (Kellermann, 2001). Transgenerational trauma is recognized as a serious consequence of such traumatic events as war, inter-ethnic conflict, genocide, slavery, rape, colonialism and natural and unnatural disasters. In terms of public health, transgenerational trauma is understood to severely impede both an individual’s and a community’s ability to heal, function and prosper for generations to come.
How was transgenerational trauma first discovered?
Much of our understanding of transgenerational trauma comes from studies of children of survivors of the Holocaust, particularly the work of Yael Danieli. In the late 1960s, Danieli set up a treatment center in New York for the treatment of Holocaust survivors and their children. To her astonishment, she found that, universally, all of her patients had never been listened to about their experiences in the concentrations camps, even by mental health professionals. Instead, their experiences had been treated with avoidance, denial, belittling and indifference. Their stories were just seen as too traumatic to be believed or discussed. Faced with what Danieli termed “the conspiracy of silence,” patients had no other choice but to withdraw into their families, making mourning impossible. Here, children absorbed or internalized the unreconciled grief and loss of their parents either through survivor stories (usually told by the spouse of the survivor) or by osmosis; the child growing up in bewilderment as to the inexplicable torment within the family and their own growing sense of guilt (Danieli, 1998).
What have we learned since then?
Since the early work on the Holocaust, a vast amount of research has been written about the nature and effects of transgenerational trauma. Children of American Vietnam veterans, for example, have been a huge source of interest as to the effects of war as one particular form of a traumatic event (Leiner, 2009). Similarly and much more recently, Daniel Schechter, through his study of families affected by the 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center, has shown how distressed children could trigger the PTSD of their surviving parent – a finding that suggests a much more dynamic, more reciprocal view of transgenerational trauma (Schechter, Coates & First, 2002). Further research has focused not only on how exactly transmission of transgenerational trauma takes place, but also the exact nature of the outcome (i.e., the effect on children and grandchildren). While initially it was thought that if a parent was experiencing some kind of PTSD, then, left untreated, their children were also likely to develop PTSD (as if a psychopathology were somehow infective). This thesis has largely shown to be untrue (Kellermann, 2001; Daniele, 1998). Today, however, research tends to emphasize the trauma response within the second generation. In other words, when faced with a new particularly life-threatening or stressful event, are children whose parents who suffered from trauma and PTSD more susceptible to developing PTSD themselves? Or, because of their parents’ influence, are they somehow more resilient?
Next up: Uspomene 677: the Transgenerational Trauma of Victims and Perpetrators (Part IV)
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Selected Further Reading
Daniele Y. (ed). (1998). International Handbook of Multigenerational Legacies of Trauma. Boston, MA: Springer US.
de Mendelssohn F. (2008). Transgenerational transmission of trauma: guilt, shame, and the “heroic dilemma”. International Journal of Group Psychotherapy, 58 (3):389-401.
Kellermann N P F. (2001). Transmission of Holocaust trauma – an integrative view.Psychiatry, 64 (3): 256-267.
Leiner B. (2009) The legacy of war: an intergenerational perspective. Smith College Studies in Social Work, 79 (3-4): 375-91.
Schechter D S, Coates S W, First E. (2002). Observations of acute reactions of young children and their families to the World Trade Center attacks. Zero to Three, 22(3): 9-13.


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Uspomene 677: the Transgenerational Trauma of Victims and Perpetrators (Part IV) | Balkan Diskurs
Bruce Clezy
June 16th, 2017
Two generations, seven different stories: Uspomene 677 is a powerful investigation into the effects and scope of PTSD and transgenerational trauma.
Two generations, seven different stories: Uspomene 677 is a powerful investigation into the effects and scope of PTSD and transgenerational trauma. This is the fourth installment of our mini-series on Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and the visual arts. See Part III for a brief history on transgenerational trauma. To begin at Part I of this series, click here.
“If they live in an atmosphere that excludes others and those who are different; if they are spreading hopelessness, fear, animosity towards others; then young souls and hearts will absorb that.”
– Franjo Komarica, Bosnian Croat, Catholic Bishop of Banja Luka (Uspomene 677) –
Uspomene 677 is a feature-length documentary film produced in Bosnia-Herzegovina by Pinch Media (London) the Post-Conflict Research Center and directed by Mirko Pincelli. Madein 2011, the film follows the lives of three survivors of the 1992-1995 Bosnian War and four young people who were born during or just after the ceasefire was signed. It reveals both the horrors that survivors faced as well as their ongoing attempts to heal from their trauma. Interviews with these survivors are then intercut with testimonies from four young people. In listening to these young people tell the stories of their own lives and the lives of those around them, viewers get a real sense of the deep scars these adolescents face as they try to make sense of a legacy that was not of their own doing. Highly personal and deeply moving, Uspomene 677 is an intimate picture of the transgenerational transmission of PTSD. The film is unique and important in that it shows that the trauma of PTSD is not just experienced and transmitted to the children of the victims of war, but can also be found amongst perpetrators and their children.
Take Tatjana, for example. Tatjana is the 17-year-old daughter of a former soldier. She was born in 1994 and, although not directly affected by the conflict, the challenges she now faces can still be attributed to the Bosnian War. Tatjana’s parents are divorced, a fact she directly links to her father’s drug problem and his inability to talk about the horrors he experienced as a soldier.
“[People] wondered what triggered my father’s addiction … and everything else he did in relation to narcotics. I always bring up the fact my father was a soldier … who fought during the war. I always connect these two things. My father does not talk a lot … about the war; what he saw, lived through and everything else. I realize how hard it is for him to talk. He cannot make a sentence which does not sound like: ‘You do not know how it feels to see all that.’ ‘You do not know how hard it is to see all that blood and all those men.’ One thing led to another, and the problems in our family started showing up. I connect those problems with the war.”
Here we have all the classic signs of the transgenerational transmission of PTSD. A parent who has experienced deep physical and psychological trauma (the horrors of war) retreats into himself believing that no one else can understand his pain. Unable to recover, he uses narcotics, and ends up in jail. This wreaks havoc on his family. Distraught by his actions, his daughter spends much of her life trying to rescue him. “I feel very sorry for everything that happened to him,” says Tatjana, “and during my whole life I have been trying to help him with that issue.” This attempt to “save” the parent is a typical outcome of the transgenerational effects of PTSD (Leiner, 2009).
Contrast Tatjana with an anonymous young man who begins to appear towards the end of the movie. Identity-less, his voice appears out of the darkness:
“When I was a kid, other kids always asked me what my religion was. I would always tell them: ‘I am Alen [sic].’ I did not know what religion was. I came from a mixed family of Croats, Muslims and Serbs. My father is Ermin Čurtić. He has been charged with war crimes in the village of Stupni Dol in Vareš.”
This young man’s story is the story of the son of a perpetrator. Like Tatjana, his life has been profoundly affected by the actions of his father. Distancing himself from his friends for fear of reprisal and many sleepless nights are just two of the outcomes of the intergenerational trauma he faces on a daily basis.
The brilliance of Uspomene 677 as a movie is that it forces the viewer to question just who is the “victim” of intergenerational trauma. Neither Tatjana nor the anonymous young man is shown to be “damaged.” They are not “sick,” nor do they have a “psychopathology” in any way. Neither are they the “victims” of war. On the contrary, they are courageous and intelligent young people who have successfully navigated the challenges of their particular histories, while continually striving for a better future. Similarly, while Bishop Komarica’s speech that commenced this piece could easily be read as a description of the conditions of transgenerational trauma, he is actually describing the process by which nationalism is transferred from one generation to the next. Uspomene 677 dares to ask who exactly are the transgenerational victims of trauma? Is it those who have been subjected to PTSD or those who have been subjected to fervent nationalism?
*Uspomene 677 is now available for download on iTunes.
Next up: Post-Traumatic Stress versus Post-Traumatic Growth (Part V)
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Selected further reading
Leiner B. (2009). The legacy of war: an intergenerational perspective. Smith College Studies in Social Work, 79 (3-4): 375-91.