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Lost or Found? The Story of Bosnia’s Forgotten Children | Balkan Diskurs
Clara Fantoni
March 24th, 2015
In July 1992, 46 Bosnian children from the Bjelave Orphanage in Sarajevo were evacuated to Italy. None of them have returned.
Marianna, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, was 11 years old when she was evacuated from war-torn Sarajevo and sent to the Igea Marina care home in Rimini, Italy. She was one of 45 children evacuated from the Dom Bjelave Orphanage in Sarajevo, formerly known as Ljubica Ivezić. The children were transported via bus through dangerous terrain and sniper fire to get to the coast. This initiative had been authorized by Bosnian President Alija Izetbegović and organized by the General Secretary Duško Tomić of the Children’s Embassy Medjasi. The 37 youngest children were taken to the Mamma Rita Orphanage in Monza, Milan; the older children were placed at Igea Marina.
It is not clear whether the children were sent with documents, but upon arrival in Italy their legal status was automatically that of “entrusted minors”, meaning they were under the guardianship of the Children’s Embassy Medjasi and later the Italian government. 22 years later, Marianna has no legal Italian identity, even though she is married to an Italian and expecting her first child.
“We kept wondering when we would go back. We asked but nobody told us anything. We were minors at the time. We had no power,” states Marianna. Both orphanages have declined to comment on the situation. A representative from the Bjelave Orphanage stated, “We have no information about those children. There was a war going on. We do not know if what we say will be taken the wrong way,” adding, “but that does not mean that we are hiding something.”
In 1995, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Bosnia-Herzegovina cooperated with the Ministry of Refugees to organize the return of these children to Bosnia. Attempts were made on two separate occasions, but the situation in Sarajevo was still deemed dangerous and the plan was later dropped. That same year, the Director of the Bjelave Orphanage, Amir Zelić, visited Italy in an attempt to retrieve the children. “He cried crocodile tears but he didn’t do anything,” says Marianna. “A temporary solution became permanent. It makes you sick to think about it, but you have to close the door and not ask questions. I hate to talk about it. I’m tired of talking about it. We had the necessities at Igea Marina but, of course, there was a lack of maternal care. I have no contact with my relatives in Bosnia.”
Marianna never returned to Bosnia and spent the rest of her childhood in the Igea Marina care home. “We left the home at 18, got jobs and boyfriends and moved away.”
Dario Novalić, journalist and owner of START magazine, took it upon himself to investigate the situation. “I wanted to tell the truth. There were so many lies in the press.” Allegations were rife. In the past, the orphanages have been accused of selling children to childless couples and there have been whispers of Muslim children being forcibly converted to Catholicism, though none of these rumours have ever been verified.
“You could say that the children had a better life growing up in Italy than they would have had facing the consequences of war,” says Novalić. “It was alleged that contact and information regarding the children had been lost when, in fact, all it took was a phone call to the Ministry of Civil Affairs to find out information.”
In 2008, Novalić made a short documentary called If You Are Watching This, Mom. The film followed the story of five Bosnian children living in Italy, and reflecting upon their nostalgia and the fact that their mother tongue had been forgotten with the passing of years. “Some of those kids were abandoned at the orphanage and only after there was publicity did the parents get in contact and start asking for money,” says Novalić.
Yet some of the children had parents who fought tirelessly over the years to bring their children back. Following the death of his wife, Uzeir Kahvić placed his daughter, Sedina, into temporary care at the Bjelave Orphanage when she was just 40 days old. Kahvić was an unemployed widower and could not afford to look after his daughter. He visited her every week without fail until war broke out and his home fell behind the frontline, which he was unable to cross. In 1995, when war ended, Kahvić made his way through the shattered city to find that his daughter had been taken to Italy without his knowledge and was now untraceable.
Between 1997 and 2000, Kahvić sent five written declarations asking for the return of his daughter, but no action was taken and Sedina was later adopted by an Italian family. Thanks to a transmission of Rai 3’s Chi l’ha visto, a TV program that specializes in missing persons, Kahvić was able to locate the whereabouts of Sedina. In October 2006, they met for the first time in 14 years at a train station in Florence.
In 1997, the adoption process of 23 Bosnian children was underway, and in 1998 official Court Orders were sent to relatives in Bosnia. Parents of the children that were undergoing the adoption process in Italy were required to give their “informed consent” to Italian courts in order for the adoption to become a legal procedure and not a violation of parental rights. Article 21a of the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) states that “informed consent” must be given by parents, relatives or legal guardians of children before any adoption process commences. CRC Article 9.3 states that parents and relatives of a refugee child should maintain the right to know their whereabouts and should be able to contact them, but the whereabouts of the Bosnian children in Italian custody were protected until they were 25 years old.
In the case of Uzeir Kahvić, the court in Milan claimed that his address was unknown and they were unable to reach him. In the case of Dejan Golijan, the court order was sent to his father at an address in another country. Vedrana Hastor was unlawfully adopted in Italy due to a technicality that she legally did not exist. This was a result of having not been registered at birth and having no legal documents or JMBG (Unique Master Citizen Number), which is the equivalent of a personal identification number.
When contacted for a comment about the situation, a representative in the Italian Embassy in Sarajevo stated, “We have no information. We suggest you contact the orphanage as they are responsible.” The General Consulate of Bosnia and Herzegovina in Milan also stated that they had no information regarding the matter. A representative of the adoption agency, Primogenita Di Gracanica, stated, “Our organization has no information relating to this topic,” despite the fact that their name was mentioned by another adoption agency, Tuzlanska Amica, who said, “No Bosnian children were adopted using our agency, but we know that there were a few with Primogenita.”
With regard to the relocated children, human rights activist Jagoda Savić commented, “There are no children from Bosnia who were reunited with their families.” Jagoda Savić was the legal representative of Uzeir Kahvić and aided him in his quest to locate his daughter. “In the end, it was thought not to be in the best interests of the children to return and to have to pass through complicated procedures to recognize their school certificates.”
It is hard to imagine what it must have felt like for a parent to find out that their child had been adopted in a foreign country without their knowledge or consent. It remains unclear whether the fault lies on the Italian or Bosnian side, and those involved are quick to blame the passing of time as an excuse for the lack of information. Some families have received compensation settlements, but these are small. In 2005, parents Uzeir Kahvić and Silvana Osmanović-Seferović were awarded just 3000 BAM (Bosnian Convertible Marks) each, the equivalent of €1,500, by the Bosnian government to compensate for the damage caused to them due to the loss of their children.
It could be argued that these Bosnian children had a better life growing up in Italy, that their childhood memories were not blighted by the sounds of mortar shells and the sights of bloodied streets. Bosnia has a 43.74% unemployment rate and ethnic divisions are still prevalent. At times it feels like the peace is in a fragile state. Who knows what kind of lives they would have had in Bosnia. Many of these children, now adults, consider Italy to be their home, and memories of Bosnia are as hazy as the Sarajevo fog. Yet the love of a family or a parent is irreplaceable. Were these children deprived of love and nationality or were they saved?

created: March 24th, 2015


text:
Being a Woman: A Curse or a Blessing? | Balkan Diskurs
Nataša Tripunović
March 27th, 2015
In Bosnia-Herzegovina, equal rights only exist on paper.
Throughout Bosnia’s often painful history, and now in our still-struggling democracy, people have lived with great hardship: retired people and young people, men and women, employed and unemployed, students and school kids alike. No one is having an easy time, but I dare say it is the worst for women, as they only seemingly and on paper have the same rights as men. The wide gap between the reality and what should be is increasingly and glaringly visible.
You hear that women are the “necessary evil”. At first you think that a statement like this could only be uttered by the most uneducated of men. But more and more educated men, as well as political elites and leaders, are making similar comments in the guise of jokes or off-hand comments.
One could argue that the mentality is the problem. Female children are commonly advised to be silent and endure whatever comes upon them. Everything that was wrong and done by a man was excused with “he is just a man.” Women often put themselves in a neglected position.
For instance, granddaughters would often hear, “listen to your husband,” from their grandmothers before they get married. “Listen to your husband” – what does that even mean? Should she listen while he talks so she can be a fair partner and contribute to their life, or should she really just listen, and abandon her own will? I would not argue that our grandmothers were talking about compromise. We should therefore work to empower women and to build up their self-esteem and their strengths.
We often hear that men and women do not think in the same way. Even psychologists agree. Studies show that women are more likely to demonstrate empathy and are more capable of handling unknown situations.
It has also been shown that women are great debaters and diplomats. A woman can intuitively feel the flow of a conversation and is therefore more likely to draw meaningful conclusions. Additionally, women play an important role in conflict resolution and in the process of reconciliation. This clearly illustrates how women can be successful in very many aspects of life.
Women have the so-called multitasking ability and are capable of doing various things at the same time. This is a great advantage, but women in Bosnia are denied the opportunity to show their abilities. Even women in top leadership positions have a hard time showing how capable they are due to daily manipulations from their male counterparts.
Some claim that women are meant to be mothers and housewives. That is all. It is, however, not so simple. During job interviews young women are usually advised to not plan on having children. When should they plan on it, I ask? Once they retire? Motherhood and a career should not be two mutually exclusive paths.
Crucial changes and reforms are needed in society and at all government levels. It is necessary to fight for equal job opportunities and working conditions. It is not impossible to improve the situation, but each individual must start making an effort. And start now.
Malala Yousafzai, a Nobel Peace Prize winner, who risked her life fighting for girls’ access to education, should be an example for all of us. There are numerous examples of extraordinary women throughout history who were not valued enough simply because they were women. One of them certainly is Mileva Maric-Einstein. Despite being overshadowed by her famous husband Albert, she was a brilliant scientist in her own right, and there is some debate over what role she played in his work.
I think that women in Bosnia are capable of great things. But first we need to get rid of the assumption that we will not be able to handle the pressure of being both mothers and successful businesswomen.
Limiting women to motherhood or work only is a way of neglecting the full capacity that women have. It is like a one-way life.
Being a woman does not mean carrying a heavy burden on a weak back, it also means being blessed with the confidence and strength to handle whatever comes our way.

source: news-balkandiskurs

created: March 27th, 2015

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

author: Nataša Tripunović


text:
A New Hope for LGBT in Bosnia-Herzegovina? | Balkan Diskurs
Chloé Gaillard
March 27th, 2015
Chloé Gaillard speaks with Jasenko, organizer and activist of the 2015 international movie festival Merlinka, about the situation of the Lesbian-Gay-Bi-Trans (LGBT) community in Bosnia-Herzegovina (BiH).
Merlinka is an international queer movie festival, organized for the first time in Belgrade in 2008 by the Gay and Lesbian Info Center (GLIT). Created as a tribute to Vjeran Miladinović, a trans person killed in Belgrade in 2003 and known under his drag name “Merlinka,” the festival rapidly grew to become a major event for the LGBT community in the Balkans.
In 2012, Merlinka was organized in Sarajevo for the first time. After a promising start, the festival sadly made headlines in 2014. Held in the Art Cinema Kriterion in Sarajevo, last year’s event was attacked by a group of masked men during a panel discussion about trans-identity and trans-rights.
“The festival received few homophobic articles prior to being held, from marginalized fascist news portals. It was enough for the hooligans to react. In addition, the satirical website, Sarajevo 365, wrote an article saying that a gay pride was going to be held in Sarajevo. I think this misinformation led to what happened” explained Jasenko.
The attackers should have been stopped but the police, in charge of the security due to the high risk still surrounding LGBT related events in BiH, were late that day.
“Police officers were supposed to be there at three o’clock but they arrived 20 minutes later which was enough time for the attackers to do what they did. They have been reported to the police but nothing really happened… we are still waiting.”
The three-day long 2015 edition of the festival went uninterrupted, enabling participants to enjoy the selection of five movies, all focusing on different issues such as same-sex marriage, parenthood, sex change and transition.
“This year, we had more than 300 people on the opening night. People had no place to sit. The movie theatre was full. We are really satisfied with how it went. I think people got used to the fact that it’s going to happen every year,” Jasenko said, adding that he still wonders: “Maybe it was just because of the security?”
Indeed, this year the security of the event was a major preoccupation. Private security, police officers in the street and in front of the Art Cinema Kriterion, plainclothes unit…  A massive security service was deployed to ensure the security of participants. “SOC was and is still working with the police to educate, train and sensitize them to LGBT issues such as hate crimes or discrimination. It had a lot of impact and this year they were perfectly professional.”
To see such a very public event, taking place without any problems or threats, brings new hope to the Bosnian LGBT community. “The year 2014 was a good year and a big step for Bosnia. Sarajevo definitely contributed to this beginning of shift of mentalities. It’s encouraging for any next project. Whatever that is, it is really great that it is happening.”
Now, Jasenko wants to focus more on other cities. Originally from Tuzla, a city that gave him “the freedom and strength to be out,” he is now living in Banja Luka, a city in Republika Srpska, one of the two entities constituting Bosnia.
“When it comes to Banja Luka, I can’t say that there is a shift there. Unlike Sarajevo, which had SOC for 4 years, we have to go all the way from the beginning. It’s really hard to organize anything because the community there is really afraid to come out. We have to work on strengthening the community. So far, we got good responses from institutions. They are not really sensitized yet, but it’s already promising.”
His organization, named Banja Luka Association of Queer Activists, finally found a space to work and plan on organizing different educational activities; forming a book club to get people interested in reading queer literature and starting a project with a local radio station to have an LGBT talkshow once a month. Furthermore, Jasenko plans to organize Merlinka in his city next year.
“I have been an activist for 11 years and I have been waiting for something to happen. I think that something is changing and we have to use this opportunity to push it as much as we can. I am really optimistic.”

author: Chloé Gaillard


text:
Who Am I? | Balkan Diskurs
Tatjana Milovanović
March 30th, 2015
What does it mean to be Bosnian in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and does such an identity even exist?
The constitution of Bosnia-Herzegovina says that all citizens of the Federation of BiH and Republika Srpska are automatically citizens of Bosnia. The fact is that all of us, as citizens of BiH, carry a passport, and other identification documents with a crest of a single country and the marking of one citizenship.
The famous droit du sol created in France during the time of revolution, considers French citizens to be anyone residing within the boundaries of that country, regardless of their ethnicity. This idea of “Droit du sol” is still popular today within the territory of France, the largest EU country.
If you asked my grandparents back in the 1990s what nation they belonged to, they would have told you they were Yugoslavs and Bosnians. My grandfather would probably start talking nostalgically about the past, remembering how, as a policeman in 1984, he went to Sarajevo to work during Olympics, or how it was to be in Kosovo during the 1970s. My grandmother would most probably talk about how “Borac”, a clothing producer in Banovići, was the best collective she ever worked for, and how they went on the best collective field trips together. And yes, they were Yugoslavs, and they were Bosnians.
When you ask them the same question today, they themselves do not know how to respond, and they mostly avoid talking about that time. Grandmother says there is no point in talking anymore, as the good days of her life are long behind her, and what she has today, in this country, is pure survival.
When talking with a high school girl from Kladanj, a small town in Northeast Bosnia, I discovered that even today they can not explain to her grandfather that they are Bosniaks; he just stubbornly claims he is Bosnian and he does not know of any other national identity.
And really, when I think about the country in which I live, taking both its history into consideration, and also the times in which it is currently developing, I cannot help but wonder: “What does it mean to be Bosnian in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and does such an identity even exist?”
As someone who grew up after the war in BiH, I always faced a dilemma when considering my ethnic and national identity. Growing up in a family that fostered Orthodox tradition, I was immediately seen as a Serb and so there was no dilemma about that; no dilemma for anyone but me, because I always felt that something was missing.
Ethnic symbols in BiH have become so important that sometimes I feel like we are living in a time of ancient history and tribal divisions, where tribal colors and insignia are the only guarantee of survival. In a time when politicians, through mainstream media, openly talk about not recognizing the capital city of this country, about strengthening the entities and the creation of independent regions, I wonder if there is a possibility of life and survival outside of ethnicity.
What bothers young people in BiH the most is the impossibility of finding a job and the resultant lack of money. It is because of these problems that a large number of young people decide to pursue their happiness outside of BiH’s borders. The difficulties of life today outside the boundaries of “your group” is made evident by the many cases of employment to fulfill ethnic quotas, and a tradition of employment on “party lines”. If we take into consideration that 80% of political parties include ethnic symbols in their names, we can see the extent of problem the country is facing.
Sometimes it seems futile to talk about the existence of the country Bosnia, because the majority of its citizens declare themselves as members of some other group, rather than the citizens of this country. I wonder if there really is a country if even those who carry its passport negate its existence. How come only an old man from Kladanj remembers it? Why can’t we all be stubborn, and prevent being robbed of what our grandparents were? Why do we continuously try to forget where we are from, and inside whose borders we live? We cannot forget our religion and ethnicity because they carry in them the individuality and history of our families and ancestors. But we must also turn to what is maybe an even higher priority, and that is all ethnicities and all religions, living side-by-side inside these state borders. Would it not be nice if we could talk about belonging to a larger group, and finally talk about each other as proud Bosnians?
I believe such ideas of “brotherhood and unity” may seem too idealistic and even impossible today, but if you think they are even a little necessary, and if you consider them logical, not all is lost. Even if it seems crazy sometimes, and even a little naive, I believe all BiH citizens are a little like that old man from Kladanj.
Being Bosnian today means being angry and bitter at the political system in the country. It means living in economically unstable communities, fighting for existence every day and struggling for a “better tomorrow”. But also, it means being proud when our athletes win a medal or when Sarajevo wins the competition of the 100 best tourist destinations. Being Bosnian means feeling love and belonging, and carrying it always and everywhere.

created: March 30th, 2015

author: Tatjana Milovanović


text:
Rape: Not Only a Crime against One Woman, but a Crime against the Nation? | Balkan Diskurs
Nevena Medić
April 1st, 2015
Only through understanding the gender perspectives of the Bosnian war can we approach the conflict honestly and begin to answer more profound questions that are crucial for the reconciliation process.
In a controversial BBC documentary about the brutal 2012 gang rape and murder of a young woman in Delhi entitled “India’s Daughter”, the filmmakers interview one of the convicted rapists who openly blames the victim for the assault. The film was broadcast in the UK but banned by the Indian government, which stated that it could incite further violence against women.
The documentary made me think about how many victims of rape I meet in my life in Bosnia-Herzegovina, whether through my work with the Post-Conflict Research Center or in my daily life, sometimes without even realizing the tremendous humiliation and suffering they have to bear each day. In our repressive, patriarchal society, people point fingers at them and whisper: “You would not believe it, she was raped several times in her house, and imagine, it was every time by different man….isn’t it ugly?!”
I feel overwhelmingly disgusted. Not towards the women who were raped, but rather towards our society, which has a distracted system of values that is completely devoid of compassion for and recognition of a woman’s experience.
Trying to understand the Bosnian war always involves a search for answers in the past. Going back to the ubiquitous “Brotherhood and Unity” slogan that formed the backbone of communist Yugoslavia, this theme was obviously developed by men. Even having all the same social rights and benefits, women bore the role of “woman” and “mother” as a double burden. Employed women contributed to the production of goods for the society and state, but they were still expected to run a household as wives and mothers.
The class was the most powerful social and state subject, and it was male dominated. But the collapse of communism brought nationalism to the scene, where class was replaced by the nation and where nationalistic strategies were used to achieve this reversal. The aim was to create ethnically pure territories, accomplished not only through mass expulsions, ethnic cleansing and killings, but also through rape, which was used strategically and as a weapon of war.
In repressive, patriarchal societies like Bosnia, women are seen as reproducers of the nation. The female body is therefore preserved as the territory of one nation, and rape is a way to harm and destroy that nation. The woman’s body must be controlled in order to maintain the external and eternal boundaries of one ethno-nation. Essentially, a woman’s body during war becomes a vessel through which men communicate with each other.
The war may be over now, but female rape victims are currently being manipulated to represent the victimization of their whole ethnic group. Going from individuality to collectivity is the usual pattern in Bosnian ethno-nationalistic discourse. When a group says, “our women were raped”, it is a way to depict the suffering of one ethno-nation. Rape, besides being seen as “dirty”, is deeply perceived as a crime against one nation rather than the crime against one individual – a mother, daughter, sister and girlfriend. Women become stripped of their individuality and are viewed purely as models of national devastation for their ethnic group. This process both dehumanizes the raped woman and minimizes the crimes committed against her as an individual. Since rape is a weapon – and there was no winner in the war – the rape of a large number of women from one ethnic group is humiliating for that group.
The United Nations estimates that between 20,000 and 56,000 women were raped during the Bosnian war. I remember one victim confessing to me: “Who will believe me that I suffer and live with it, who will believe me twenty years after the war? They didn’t then, and they won’t now. They ask for proof, I have only my inner feeling.”
Many victims remain silent not only because of the shame, fear and humiliation they continue to endure, but also because of the ethno-nationalistic politics that continue to dominate in Bosnia today, where the only way to communicate is on an ethnic level. Women are afraid that if they speak about what happened to them, they will betray their nation, their family and their partner who fought in the war.
A stigma has developed because of the lack of institutional and social support for survivors of wartime sexual violence. Proper medical treatment is absent, as are reparations. Think about how many rape victims are among us who are not recognized – both because they feel they must remain silent and because society does not care about their plight. Many of them say that it is better to remain silent than to become a victim for a second time. Even though the war is over, women remain on the frontline as they have always been – as sisters, mothers, daughters and friends – fighting for recognition and their rights, regardless of their ethnicity. I have seen so many Bosniak and Serb women who suffered and lost their families in the war sit together and talk. You can feel how much they understand and respect one another as women struggling to overcome a painful past and forge a new future.
The conflict in the Balkans has forever changed the understanding of what it means to be a woman in war. Many victims of rape still seek justice. Only through understanding the gender perspectives of the Bosnian war can we approach the conflict honestly and begin to answer more profound questions that are crucial for the reconciliation process.

created: April 1st, 2015

author: Nevena Medić


text:
Hasija’s Story | Balkan Diskurs
Balkan Diskurs
April 6th, 2015
A photo exhibition documents Hasija’s journey back to the place that changed her life forever and the life that is now her reality.
“10 soldiers came into my home who had previously burned down my grandparents’ house while they were inside with my 3-year-old sister. They ordered that I go with them, and they took me to my high school. I wasn’t even 18 years old, and I had never been intimate with a man until that time. That night, they took me into the basement of the school and threw me to the floor. I couldn’t see their faces. I prayed and begged for them to stop, but nothing helped. I lost consciousness. I woke up in a classroom and felt nothing but emptiness inside. I was held in that school for a month and a half. I thought I would never be free again. They continued to come and take advantage of me during the night. When I was released and reunited with my family, I was told that they had also killed my father and brother.”
“They say that the life of every person is unique and precious. They hurt me and today I don’t see my life as valuable anymore. The horrific past of my youth is my only reality. It is a fight to keep going each day. The fight for existence becomes even harder under the veil of the scars that will not heal. 20 years ago I dreamed of a happy life. Today I have nightmares, covered in the blood of my loved ones. My light at the end of the tunnel is shut down by tears, and my voice of hope is muted by the gunshots I hear with every beat of my tired heart.”
This exhibition documents Hasija’s journey back to the place that changed her life forever and the life that is now her reality. Velija Hasanbegović captured the essence of her story through his photography.
40-year-old Hasija serves as the inspiration for this exhibition. At the age of eighteen, she was forced to endure the horrors of rape and sexual violence while being detained in what was once her high school during the Bosnian war. These images, captured by photographer Velija Hasanbegović, depict the ongoing struggles that she must face as a result of her experiences. Translating Hasija’s memories of these horrible crimes into photographs was an emotional and difficult task for Hasanbegović because he too is carrying vivid memories of the war that took place in the 1990s.
Returning to 1992 and the scene of a horrific crime was a very big deal for both of them, but the need to document and to tell the truth was important. For Hasanbegović, Hasija’s difficult life story was a great inspiration, and Hasija once again summoned the courage to share her memories. The Post-Conflict Research Center (PCRC) is proud to have made this successful cooperation possible.
These photographs tell the story of a broken youthful dream, a lost look through empty eyes and a woman recovering from the wounds of the past while dealing with the reality of the present.

created: April 6th, 2015

author: Balkan Diskurs


text:
#SELFISH | Balkan Diskurs
Chloé Gaillard
April 7th, 2015

created: April 7th, 2015


text:
Bringing Justice to Victims? Report on ICTY’s Work in Progress | Balkan Diskurs
Zuzana Pavelková
April 9th, 2015
The International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia believes it will complete its work in 2017, though challenges remain.

created: April 9th, 2015

author: Zuzana Pavelková


text:
Divided Memoreality: Gavrilo Princip in Sarajevo | Balkan Diskurs
Benjamin Goffrier
April 14th, 2015
A visual study of two views and memories of a certain day in 1914.
Before the war, Sarajevo was a multicultural city. During the thousand-day siege, the city was left almost entirely in ruins. Sarajevo was not destroyed or randomly bombed but its enemies targeted the multicultural identity of Bosnia-Herzegovina’s capital. The first to be destroyed were sites of great cultural importance.
Upon the war’s conclusion, Bosnia was divided into two separate entities as a result of the Dayton Peace Agreement. Sarajevo was divided too, into the cities of Sarajevo and Eastern Sarajevo. Estimates for the Bosniak population of the city of Sarajevo, the capital of both Bosnia and the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina (FBiH), go as high as 87%. Neighboring Eastern Sarajevo, as a municipality of the Republika Srpska, is primarily inhabited by Serbs. The identity and memories of Bosniaks and Serbs become steadily divided.
Gavrilo Princip is one of history’s key figures whose story divides Bosniaks and Serbs. Two different memorials in Sarajevo – one in the Federation’s Sarajevo and one in Istočno (Eastern) Sarajevo – illustrate how two ethnic groups interpret history differently and how they actively reinforce that division by resurrecting memorials that engrave that division in public spaces.
The memorial in the city of Sarajevo is located directly on the historic site where the Bosnian Serb, Gavrilo Princip, assassinated the claimant to the Austro-Hungarian throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and his wife Sofia on 28 June 1914. At the street corner on the river Miljacka’s northern bank, the famous Latin Bridge built in the Middle Ages and the accompanying Music Pavillon with a small park and plaque remind tourists and residents of the historic relevance of that place. In addition, a museum dedicated to the fateful events of 28 June 1914 is situated in a prominent corner building and tells the story of the royals’ deaths.
The memorial of Gavrilo Princip in Istočno Sarajevo, in contrast, is placed in an area surrounded by apartment buildings. The bronze statue of Princip, standing over two meters tall, was unveiled in June 2014 – on the centennial anniversary of the killing.
While Serb nationalists praise Gavrilo Princip’s actions as a call for freedom, Bosniaks remember him as a war-mongering Serb terrorist. This visual study attempts to uncover the different narratives cast in stone and bronze by attracting attention to rather bizarre details of the memorials that unify rather than divide.

created: April 14th, 2015

author: Benjamin Goffrier


text:
The Scars of Transition: Remnants of Humanity in a Heart-Shaped Land | Balkan Diskurs
Elma Karahodžić
April 16th, 2015
As poet Mak Dizdar describes in “Blue River” there exists a country: “Beyond dread, beyond doubt, beyond nine, beyond ten, deeper and stronger, beyond silence, beyond darkness.” It is here that a good country exists. A country shaped like a heart. That country’s name is Bosnia-Herzegovina and a strange people live in this heart-shaped land.
In this country people go by many names: Bosnians, Serbs, Croats, Bosniaks, Catholics, Orthodox, Muslims. This nation speaks different languages: Bosnian, Croatian, Serbian, yet they all speak the same language and everyone understands everyone else. This nation writes with different scripts, yet they all write of equality, justice, peace and freedom in the same way.
There exists a country in the corner of the universe, in the shape of a heart. Such a big heart, but is there still humanity within it? For centuries the Sava, Una, Drina and Vrbas rivers have had a strange hatred flowing through them. As long as this country can remember it has known war, and it is still recovering from the last one. However, nothing in this country is black. Everything is colorful and different: traditions, folklore, prayers, all breathing together under the same veil.
Citizens of this beautiful Bosnia-Herzegovina, which is everyone’s and ours, are proud of its diversity, but their voices are lost next to voices of those with empty heads and full mouths. Yet, they are there. They exist and act.
Alma Mehičić, a young and unemployed traffic engineer from Doboj (Republika Srpska), says stagnation is not a strong enough word for everything that is happening. She thinks that the transition process reflected badly on all Bosnians and that people can still feel the consequences. However, it is all individual and ultimately depends on the development of awareness among the youth. “People live in the past and transmit their negative energy to their children,” says Alma, who firmly believes that the key to everything lies in education, gaining knowledge and learning about other people’s cultures so that one may accept one’s own. “This is a very rich and diverse country,” Alma states. But the question is whether this is clear to everyone.
Marko Matolić, a freelance artist and History student at the Faculty of Philosophy in Tuzla, says: “From the hypnotic tales of brotherhood and unity we were thrown into the jaws of war. Then, scared to the outer limits in which sanity barely survives, we found ourselves in a completely foreign world. In our history, the people of Bosnia never lived in a genuinely democratic system. It is thus not surprising that the society does not function very well in such a system. Most do not know how to behave in such a system. Only a minority understands how such a machine works and have decided to abuse it.” Marko believes that the Bosnian man knows nothing because knowledge is nowhere to be gained. Why is this so? In his opinion, universities are full of professors steeped in crime, and are abound with money lovers, plagiarism and doctorates set on the systematic destruction of its prospective students. On the other hand, below-average students force their way through the elementary and high school systems. The middle class, or the so-called bourgeoisie, who are potential carriers of intelligence are pushed into the lower class, sacrificing their essence while being overburdened with the struggle for existence.
Marko thinks that in Bosnia true social values like art and economy have been destroyed and that only religion is advanced. Religion that is, in his opinion, deeply embroiled in politics. Therefore, the key decisions are made by “irrational brains”. However, there are a number of people who want change, but are too cowardly to apply the necessary measures.
Marko offers two possible solutions: introducing a totalitarian regime or sending a request to the European Union to have them educate an expert government for a minimum of 30 years. Aware that his ideas may sound crazy, he still backs them up because traveling the normal road to a comfortable life has become impossible. Research conducted by non-governmental organizations reveals that more than 80% of youth want to leave Bosnia.
Admir Skula, a mechanical engineer from Doboj and a “Bosniak” raised in Zagreb, recently did just that. He currently lives in Mannheim and says that he describes Bosnia to his German colleagues as “A place where a Catholic Church, an Orthodox Church and a mosque sit side by side. It is a place of Austro-Hungarian buildings and Ottoman city centers.” Admir says his colleagues would listen in awe. Asked why he left Bosnia when he has such nice things to say about it, he says he left not because of material, but, rather, human interests. I wondered: Which human interests convinced him to leave? Nationalism? Extremism? A lack of quality education? “I celebrate both Christmas and Bajram (Eid), but religion is really just opium for the masses. Every holy book speaks of universal values, but the problem is the ‘mongers’; the interpreters and semi-literate advocates of hatred.” Skula considers himself part of the young generation that has successfully resisted such influences, but the problem, he says, is that the legacy of hate is being passed down from the older generations to the younger ones.
As if realizing the solution to our way out of this situation, Admir somewhat abruptly quotes a line from Go West, a movie all Bosnians are familiar with: “Kill all the Muslims, Croats and Serbs in this country, and then repopulate it with normal people who know how to enjoy this beauty.” At first, we may consider such an attitude off-putting, but, if interpreted correctly, we can understand the irony and take a lesson from it.
Adin Mešić, a student at the Faculty of Medicine in Tuzla, says that in order to get our own piece of land we sacrificed everything from the economy to social security. He believes that as long as they celebrate something that happened 4, 5 or 6 centuries ago, from the Battle of Kosovo to the Bosnian pashadom, Balkan nations are tribes who refuse to be a part of a civilized and modern Europe. “There is segregation everywhere. Some people are open about it, while others keep it hidden. It has been 20 years since the latest war in this country ended, and we are still divided in the same way. I am not a part of the masses. I do not identify with any one national group, as this affiliation is irrelevant to me. I consider myself a citizen of Bosnia.” When I asked him, what the solution is, Adin simply replied: “Time.”
Delila Bajrić is a fourth year student at the Medical High School in Tuzla as well as an activist for many NGOs. She also believes that young people are being poisoned by a past that is trying to impose some “old” values instead of cultivating new values that nurture respect for the beauty of diversity. “Young people today have difficulty expressing themselves and their individuality, because instead of receiving respect for their opinions and attitudes, they are instead exploited for the purpose of certain ideologies.” These considerations suggest that young people who are aware of their situation and who have developed critical thinking skills that allow them to avert what is imposed upon them in this “contaminated” environment, in fact, have very similar viewpoints.
Delila says that, unlike some other places, the situation in her town is much better and there are no signs of interethnic hatred. “The reconciliation process in our country is not the boogeyman everyone makes it out to be. All that is necessary is to lower the tensions and allow young people to think for themselves without being limited by the conservative influences of others.”
Well, welcome to Bosnia-Herzegovina, the heart-shaped country where reality is drawn from this picture of society. Welcome to Bosnia-Herzegovina where I, born in the Republika Srpska and permanently residing in the Federation, have two citizenships. I do not live in two states, I live in Bosnia-Herzegovina, a single and indivisible country. My only homeland. Welcome to Bosnia-Herzegovina where your faculty diploma can only serve as an added decoration to go along with your furniture, and that is only if it has a nice frame. Welcome to Bosnia-Herzegovina where museums and eyes are being closed and where libraries and hearts resound with emptiness. Enjoy! You will have a variety of things. Mountains, springs, rivers, lakes, forests, fields and all that fairy tales are made of, but what do we, as Bosnia-Herzegovinians, do with this fairy tale?
On the one hand, the situation is disappointing, but on the other, there are smart and aware young people that give hope for a different and brighter future. I am sure there are many more young people who think this way, but cannot express themselves because of those who have caused the writing of this article. That is why I want all of you who think your voice does not matter, all of you who remain quiet as you watch the ship sail the wrong way, all of you who refuse the grand stories and ideologies served to you by insignificant people, all of you who think this way, to raise your voice!
Wipe the stamps off your foreheads, because you are not a part of mindless masses! The wounds have long since been healed, and the scars can be easily covered. But why should we cover them? They are part of us and what we once were. They are there to make us stronger. Raise your voice! You can be everything you want to be if you want it hard enough and are brave enough. Be the change! Be the Bosnia-Herzegovina that it should be and truly is!

created: April 16th, 2015

author: Elma Karahodžić


text:
Interrupted Youth and Shattered Hope in Vlasenica | Balkan Diskurs
Velma Saric
April 17th, 2015
The next collective funeral in Vlasenica will be held on 18 April this year for five murdered civilians. The youngest identified victim is Edis Hajdarević, who was seven at the time of his murder. Vlasenica is a small town located in Eastern Bosnia. According to the 1991 census, 55% of the population was Muslim and …
The next collective funeral in Vlasenica will be held on 18 April this year for five murdered civilians. The youngest identified victim is Edis Hajdarević, who was seven at the time of his murder. Vlasenica is a small town located in Eastern Bosnia. According to the 1991 census, 55% of the population was Muslim and 42% was Serb. Today, Vlasenica has a majority Serb population.
Although this will be the 12 collective funeral held in Vlasenica, Muhamed H. (born 1961) is among those who will not find peace this year as his remains have yet to be found. In 2010, the family H. buried the remains of his brother Mehmed, who was just 30 years old at the time of his death in 1993.
The brothers’ sister S.H. and 83-year-old mother A.H. currently live in Sarajevo. They have not returned to their hometown of Vlasenica in 20 years. In the small confines of their 35m apartment hang the yellowing portraits of their beloved ones, which now represent the only memories that remain of their former lives. They yearn to find the bones of their brothers and sons, and hold onto the hope that those responsible for their suffering and trauma are someday held accountable. It is with deep sadness that they remember what they, along with their fellow Vlasenicans, lived through.
S.H. worked in a municipal office until April of 1992. She remembers the day when one of her colleagues came to work and said that the municipality was going to be divided into Muslim and Serb districts. S.H. believed this was just a figment of her colleague’s imagination, however, on 8 April, they were prohibited from entering the municipal building and were told not to come to work anymore.
“That same night, armed soldiers in uniform knocked on our door. They proceeded to search our house and took two of my brothers away. My mother and I were told to stay in the home.”
S.H. is now 45 years old. During the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina she remembers being detained in numerous camps and private houses in Vlasenica where she was systematically raped and abused. Her youth was interrupted and her hope was forever shattered.
“Words cannot explain the events that took place in my hometown. People were abducted, murdered on their doorsteps, expelled from their communities, and detained in camps. Women and girls were taken from their homes, humiliated, and raped,” S.H. told Balkan Diskurs.
“My next-door neighbor came on April 9th and took me away to an empty Muslim house where he proceeded to rape and torture me. He was drunk, and I will never forget how he reeked of alcohol.”
“He raped me several times that night. I was held there for the next three months. Everyday he would arrive with 20 or 30 soldiers and they would sit and drink. I was forced to serve them. If one of them wanted to rape me, he did. They would take me upstairs and point their weapons at me,” she recalls.
“I will never find peace until those who committed these heinous crimes are held accountable.”
Raped by Drunken Soldiers and Neighbors
Responsible for the crimes committed in Vlasenica was former president of Republika Srpska, Radovan Karadžić, who is currently standing trial at the Hague Tribunal.
Former Chief of Staff of the Army of Republika Srpska, Ratko Mladić, is also being tried for the murders and torture that took place in this town.
The Hague Tribunal previously sentenced another former Serb commander, Dragan Nikolić, to 20 years in prison for crimes against humanity, including crimes of rape. According to the verdict, Bosniaks who remained in the area from May to September 1992 were forcefully expelled or arrested. Sometime during the end of May or the beginning of June 1992, as stated in Nikolić’s verdict, Serbian forces established the Sušica camp, which approximately 8,000 detainees passed through by October 1992.
Ruled as participants in the murder, illegal detention, forced relocation and disappearance of civilians from Vlasenica, Predrag Bastah and Goran Višković were sentenced to a combined total of 40 years in prison by the Court of Bosnia-Herzegovina.
According to the verdict, Bastah, a reserve police officer for the Vlasenica Police Department, and Višković, a member of the Army of Republika Srpska, were taking part in widespread and systematic attacks on Vlasenica that involved both the army and the police force of Republika Srpska. The victims of these attacks held civilian status. Višković was also convicted for raping two witnesses.
During the trial, a protected witness said she could tell that Goran Višković was drunk.
“He put his baton on the entrance of my reproductive organ. Then he raped me. When he was done, someone else came to rape me. I cursed my mother for ever giving birth to me, and I prayed to God to take my life. I begged them to kill me, just not to torture me,” said the protected witness at Goran Višković’s trial.
Forced Baptism
S.H. told Balkan Diskurs that there were many houses in Vlasenica where women and girls were held. She explains that many other girls in Vlasenica went through a living hell just as she did. Among the girls detained in one particular house were sisters Aida and Velida Karać. These sisters did not survive their ordeal and were finally laid to rest last year in the Rakita Memorial Cemetery.
The fates of Aida and Velida, who graduated from law school and veterinary school respectively, remained unknown to their father, mother and brother for many years. According to their brother Hamdija, his sisters were good girls who simply wanted to finish their studies and start their own families. “Their dreams, however, never materialized.”
Aida and Velida were taken from their home one night in April of 1992 while their parents were being detained at the Sušica camp. According to witness testimonies, which include that of S.H. who claims to have been the last person to see the sisters in Vlasenica alive, Serbian soldiers raped them multiple times and eventually demanded that they be baptized. When they refused, the sisters were taken to the nearby Serbian village of Pelemiši, where they were executed. It was 22 years later, in a mass grave in Pelemiši, when their bones were finally uncovered.
S.H. also claims that she was taken to a church near Vlasenica where she was forcibly baptized and given the new Christian name Slađana Milošević.
Dževad Bektašević, representative of the Association of Families of Vlasenica War Victims ’92-’95 told Balkan Diskurs that, “Thus far, only a small number of Vlasenicans have been identified and buried. We, the people of the Vlasenica municipality, are still looking for over 50% of our missing.”
According to data from Families of Vlasenica War Victims ’92-’95 regarding the crimes committed in Vlasenica, 2,600 people were killed, of which 265 were children. An unknown number of Vlasenicans were also killed in the Srebrenica genocide in July of 1995. So far, there have been 337 funerals held at the Rakita Memorial Cemetery, which leaves many still in search of peace and a final resting place.

created: April 17th, 2015

author: Velma Saric


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Vitez: Differences as a Tool for Segregation | Balkan Diskurs
Emir Redžić
April 21st, 2015
“Our parents and schools fill our heads with facts; while the fostering of critical thinking remains absent from our education.”
Despite being of the same age, the young people living in the municipalities of the Srednjobosanski and Hercegovacko-neretvanski cantons often follow different teaching plans. A deep ethnic segregation primarily among Bosniaks and Croats remains ever present.
This seemingly temporary solution for the post-war period still remains in use even 20 years after the end of the conflict. None of the plans to reunite the schools have so far been successful.
One of the municipalities still following the “two schools under one roof” system is Vitez. This small town of approximately 30,000 inhabitants in the very heart of Bosnia-Herzegovina divides its youngest generations according to their names, by their native languages and through terms such as ethnicity.
The armed conflict between the Army of Bosnia-Herzegovina and the Croatian Defence Council (HVO) that broke out on the territory of Vitez, left a large number of people dead, tortured and sexually abused. Today Vitez is not officially divided, but the continued existence of “two schools under one roof” segregates the youngest, drawing new lives into the conflict that ended 20 years ago.

created: April 21st, 2015

author: Emir Redžić


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Bosnia’s Plenum: Considering the Rise and Decline of Bottom-up Democracy | Balkan Diskurs
George Rossetter
April 22nd, 2015
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created: April 22nd, 2015

author: George Rossetter


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The Scars of Transition or Open Wounds of the Present? | Balkan Diskurs
Lejla Bečar
April 23rd, 2015
Lejla Bečar explores the little-known story of a basketball project that inspired young Bosniaks, Croats and Serbs to play on the same team.
If you ask a young person in Visoko about his or her opinion regarding the transitional, or reconciliation process, you will most likely get an answer as confusing as the question itself. However, there once existed an almost ethnically neutral society, but the transitional process that enabled this has been left unnoticed by many. It happened without the public’s interest and without the local government’s assistance, without pompous news headings, great events and workshops and without a stage, but under brightly shining lights.
The lights were switched on on 15 May 1998 with the start of the Five Stars project, which drew children out of their dark hiding places into the shining lights of basketball courts. The project’s aim was “to help children get through the transitional process quickly and painlessly, but also to revive basketball in our hometown, canton and state,” says Avdo Azdajic, one of the project’s founders.
The creation of the league, A Better Balkans, was one of the project’s major successes. Thanks to financial support from several humanitarian organizations and the NATO-led stabilization force (SFOR), the league brought together about 20 basketball teams from the region. “The original idea was for children from all around BiH to come together under the same sports hall’s roof. Therefore we organized tournaments in Doboj, Tesanj, Travnik and many other cities. The idea was phenomenal and original, and had quite a positive impact,” continues Azdajic. Three years later the project was renamed XXL Basket, Visoko.
The name XXL Basket echoed around basketball courts in Visoko and the region for the next twelve years. Many generations of members, both girls and boys, were spending their time playing together and actively training regardless of whether it was morning or night, working days or weekends. Together, under the same lights played Emin, Nejra, Alisa, Dejan, Amir, Ines, Adrian, Muvedeta and many others. Ines Istuk joined the club at its very beginning back in 2001, and remained there until her education led her away to Mostar.
“I spent years at XXL Basket and I remember the time fondly. I have met so many friends while playing basketball and I will always remember them for the laughter and fun we shared, not for their nationality. Nationality was never important to us,” says Ines.
Adrian Ilic, the captain of XXL Basket’s male team, points out that the atmosphere has not changed. “A brave heart and clear mind are essential from the very beginning, which contradicts all values and principles today’s youth shares. On the court we are all one: a team. We are all equal,” says Ilic. Adrian continued his career at the basketball club, Visoko, but he retains happy memories of his time at XXL Basket, and coach Azdajic, who he believes provided a different path for his life, one unfortunately not taken by many others of his generation.
Similar thoughts are shared by Nejra Tatar, who was willing to invest her time and energy into reopening XXL Basket, which has been forced to close its doors until “better times”. “The story of XXL Basket is a story my generation grew up with. That is the place where I met Lejla and Nevena and Emin and Vladana and Dejan, real lifelong friends. Due to my further education, I left XXL Basket for a short period of time in 2006, but all my friends stayed and we were constantly in contact. We came together in a time when it was hard to promote solidarity and harmony, so we simply had to stay close to each other. This history has motivated me to do all I can to save XXL Basket, since the ones responsible for it failed to do so,” says Tatar.
Former members who used to spend their time at XXL Basket five or ten years ago reacted similarly to the shutting down, looking for ways and means to allow new generations to experience the joy of shouting XXL Basket at the end of each practice session or match. The success of these young people should not be doubted because as Adrian rightly put it: “We never lose, we only learn.” However, it is important to say that this story of unity is not the story of Visoko. It is rather the story of a small group of people. One might therefore ask, “What of the rest?”
A young Municipality Council member from Visoko, Dejan Scepanovic, who spent five years at XXL Basket, thinks that people in Visoko have never truly reconciled. “I truly believe that everyone can see the excruciating amount of stratification among the youth. People are divided by territory, class, ideology, and we cannot really talk about them as a coherent unified whole – not even when it comes to ambitions or visions of the future,” says Dejan.
So is it realistic to talk about scars of transition in a society where national sporting and cultural events happen only a few times a year, and where young people appear completely marginalized? The fact that the positive story of XXL Basket had to be dug out of the dust is a clear indicator of the situation this society finds itself in. Scars of transition are absent here, present are only the deep and open wounds of the present.

created: April 23rd, 2015

author: Lejla Bečar


text:
No Room for Truth? | Balkan Diskurs
Taylor McConnell
April 29th, 2015
How do truth, peace and justice interact in the transitional justice mechanisms established for the former Yugoslavia?

created: April 29th, 2015

author: Taylor McConnell


text:
Projections for EU and NATO Membership: Transformation or Business as Usual? | Balkan Diskurs
Emir Redžić
April 30th, 2015
How much will a future EU and NATO membership boost the economic growth of Bosnia-Herzegovina, and more importantly, with at what pace? Emir Redžzić speaks with entrepreneurs and officials from Vitez.
Much debate has taken place with regards to the economic and security implications of both EU and NATO membership for Bosnia-Herzegovina. Debates concerned with EU ascension have focused largely on economic affairs, whilst those for NATO membership are primarily concerned with security issues; however, security and economy are not without a certain degree of overlap.
Numerous projections have been made regarding the outcomes of these potential developments. However, many prominent business people in Vitez do not think that significant changes will take place.
Indeed, when asked about the consequences of Bosnia’s membership of the EU and NATO, the Assistant Chief of Entrepreneurship and Local Development and member of the Advisory Board of the company “Princip” Muhamed Rehibic, said he does not think there will be any significant changes.
He further explains that the company “Princip,” once a leading part of Yugoslavia’s military industry in producing explosives and fuses, ceased many of its activities leaving a third of Vitez’s population unemployed.
“Our technology is outdated, our plants destroyed. We lost our employees and it is simply impossible to return to our pre-war production levels. The situation becomes more difficult every day. It is hard to bring a dying man back to life,” says Rehibic.
The industry for military equipment used to be one of Yugoslavia’s leading branches of production, with annual export rates reaching billions of US dollars. Now there are only ten companies operating in the military sector within the Federation of BiH, employing a total of just 1,963 people.
The municipal council president, Tomislav-Bosnjak-Matic, also a former engineer at “Princip”, thinks that Bosnia and the municipality of Vitez must take a leading role in reviving such industries, but he has little confidence in their capacity to do so.
“Bosnia’s path to the EU is a long one. I’d be happiest if Bosnia was capable of taking matters into its own hands. We need to understand that no one will deal with our issues if we are not willing to do so ourselves. Surely NATO means security, but I do not support anyone coming into our own backyards and telling us what to do,” says Bosnjak-Matic.
Furthermore, Ismet Trako, the mayor’s Assistant of Civil Defence in Vitez, thinks that not even a NATO membership would result in the restoration of the same level of employment for “Princip” as before, adding however, that he believes at least a branch of “Princip” could be re-established in compliance with NATO requirements.
When it comes to security and BiH’s NATO membership, people in Vitez believe that much has been done in the past 20 years concerning reconciliation and intergroup relations, and the internal effects of NATO membership may thus be noticeable, but not transformative. “In a small, multi-ethnic city such as Vitez, NATO membership could definitely increase tolerance among its citizens. It is, however, not necessary, since a lot of work has already been done over the past 20 years towards reconciliation and reducing ethnic and religious tensions,” Trako points out.
According to the citizens of Vitez, joining NATO would be more of a psychological guarantee of peace and stability for Bosnia. No one wants another war, they simply want to live independently and peacefully.
It is not difficult to understand the public perception that NATO membership can create the preconditions for necessary economic stability and growth in foreign investment. Examples of other new NATO members have shown that the perception of security does, indeed, attract investment and lead to economic development.
Almin Jašarević, a manager at the furniture factory “Divan”, has not seen any significant short-term effects on the local community as a result of Bosnia’s potential NATO membership. He believes that in the long-run foreigners will recognize Bosnia’s potential and will start investing, regardless of membership. “In my business the most important things are prices and good furniture models. Europeans are only looking at price and quality. To them, it is not of much importance whether the country in which the company is operating belongs to NATO,” assesses Jašarević.
Vitez already has many foreign companies that are co-owned by domestic and foreign investors. Regardless, according to data from the Institute for Employment, out of a total of 26,000 inhabitants,, 4,353 citizens remain unemployed.
The general conclusion of businessman in Vitez is mixed. Some believe that domestic industries are mature enough and ready to compete in the foreign market, while others highlight Bosnia’s complex structure and situation as a primary contributing factor to industrial decline.
A common thread that links many of these diverse opinions, however, is that if Bosnia were to become a member of the EU, the process of competing in foreign markets would be significantly easier.

created: April 30th, 2015


text:
#FREEBIHPRESS | Balkan Diskurs
Chloé Gaillard
May 3rd, 2015


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In Pursuit of Media Freedom in Bosnia-Herzegovina | Balkan Diskurs
Tim Bidey
May 3rd, 2015
In a young country where unfettered freedom of the press is one of the main foundation pillars of statehood, it is reasonable for one to expect unbiased and free media. In theory, BiH is a media haven. However, when re-evaluated, the practice tells us an entirely different story.
At first glance it’s easy to mistake Bosnia-Herzegovina’s media landscape as one of promise. With a constitution that guarantees freedom of the press, a large number of media outlets, and a financially independent regulatory body, the small Balkan country performs relatively well by South East European standards.
But on closer inspection such freedoms are a mere façade, hiding this divided, post-war state’s continued struggle with a highly polarized and politicized media. Despite appearances, many of the fundamental aspects of media freedom face significant challenges in this divided country and, according to recent reports, the situation is only worsening.
Lejla, Nataša, Sara and Elma live their lives within this decline. All in their early to mid-twenties, they represent a generation that had little to do with the war but bear the burdens of its legacy nonetheless. All four are full-time students, but in their spare time they’re working towards a fairer, freer future across Bosnia as a local correspondent for Balkan Diskurs.
“The media is in the hands of the government. Certain persons dictate which news to publish, how much, and so on,” explains Nataša, from Bijeljina, the second largest city in predominantly Bosnian Serb Republika Srpska, one of the country’s two constituent entities. Sara, from Jajce confirms that her impression of media within her entity, the predominantly Bosniak and Bosnian Croat Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina is the same, “They should be working for public benefit, [but] they are mostly just an extended arm of parties and political elites.”
Such criticisms will come as little to those who have been tracking the state of media freedom in Bosnia. Index on Censorship’s Mapping Media Freedom project, Freedom House and Reporters Without Borders have pointed to mounting levels of political pressure and media partisanship. Such pressure takes a variety of forms, but largely stems from the country’s ongoing ethnic and political cleavages. Many media outlets, including Bosnia’s three public broadcasters, are organized along ethnic lines, whilst some are aligned, openly affiliated or funded by specific political parties or figures.
As a consequence, skewed media coverage is commonplace and corruption and crime often goes unreported. As Lejla explains: “Many things happening in Visoko are never reported in media, for reasons unknown to me, and those are not small things either – for example there were multiple shootings last month and very little was written about it.” Media bias, she added, “is most obvious though when political topics from the Federation and Republika Srpska are compared.”
The International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia is a regular victim of such political bias. Much of the local media coverage of the Tribunal is skewed and selective. For example, during the closing days of the case against Radovan Karadžić, the Sarajevo-based Dnevni Avaz focused on the prosecution’s charges against the former Bosnian Serb politician, whilst Banja Luka-based Nezavisne Novine focused solely on his defense and protestations of innocence. Furthermore, only a handful of independent organizations in Republika Srpska are known to report on trials within Bosnia’s local War Crimes Court.
Equally as worrying is the fate of those who resist such political pressures. It is not uncommon for journalists and media outlets in both of Bosnia’s constituent entities to face harassment from political, religious, and business leaders. Last December, Republika Srpska’s anti-corruption police raided the Sarajevo headquarters of Klix.ba, with the aim of identifying the source of a recording posted on the news. Nor are Bosnia’s regulatory agencies immune, as demonstrated by a spate of unidentified attacks against the country’s press council in 2014.
Political pressure is not the only threat to the freedom of the media in Bosnia. The country’s deteriorating economic situation also presents serious challenge. “Journalists sell their names for trinkets, I guess due to lack of other options or because they are used to taking the easy way out,” Elma explains. “I have witnessed various manipulations in Tešanj by local ‘wannabe journalists’ who publish every single piece of information that lands into their inbox without checking it, not being aware of the consequences,“ she adds.
This thoughtless reproduction of news frequently leads to the rapid spread of false information throughout Bosnia-Herzegovina, as demonstrated by the whirlwind of stories surrounding Bosnia’s protests last spring. This phenomenon is only exacerbated by a strong culture of social media use and low levels of media literacy. “The problem is anyone who has internet access can start their own portal or a Facebook page where they will write whatever they want in anyway they see fit… and many people lack critical thinking,” says Elma.
This sad truth has a silver lining though, and is one to which all four women subscribe through their work with Balkan Diskurs and within their local communities: Bosnia’s citizens also have the potential to change the media landscape. “Thinking with your own head and not being a sponge that soaks up everything that is offered [are important],” claims Elma.
Meanwhile her colleagues underline the promise of independent media in terms of media freedom. “Balkan Diskurs gives my voice an opportunity to be heard, so that stories that others keep quiet about can be told, to present my town in a different, more real light. That opportunity, for me, is priceless,” concludes Lejla.
This article was originally published at indexoncensorship.org

author: Tim Bidey


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#ARTOFPOLITICSBIH | Balkan Diskurs
Chloé Gaillard
May 11th, 2015


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Telling Their Story: Reflections on War | Balkan Diskurs
Leslie Woodward
May 12th, 2015
In an era of fleeting public attention, where audiences are increasingly impervious to the images of human suffering that permeate their television screens, Rémy doesn’t report with the goal of shaping policy or generating a particular response from Western governments. Rather, he sees himself as a messenger for those people who are living through war.
The First World War was infelicitously called the “war to end all wars,” a phrase coined by H.G. Wells in his coverage of the conflict. History proved otherwise: the hard-fought peace proved fleeting and some 20 years later, the Western world was plunged once again into global conflict. As the world order has evolved in the decades since, so too has the structure and nature of conflict. Nonetheless, as any reader of world news knows, conflict itself remains widespread.
War correspondent Rémy Ourdan has made a career out of documenting such conflict. His résumé as a reporter for Le Monde includes stints in Afghanistan, Egypt, Rwanda, the Congo, and Pakistan, among others. It is a career he describes as living alongside people who are experiencing the most important and dramatic time of their lives. His passion for war reporting is decisive: “[Le Monde] gives me money to travel and space to write,” Rémy muses. But even if it were not his job, he would still go to war zones to listen to people. “And if I have an opportunity to send out a message, the story, I will do it.”
But of the many locales he has covered, it is Sarajevo to which Rémy always returns. “I love [Sarajevo]. It’s charming … it is at the same time very deep and clever, on the other hand, very light and easy.” He pauses, searching for the right word. Nonchalant? Yes, he decides, Sarajevo is nonchalant.
It is also the city in which he decided to establish the central branch of the WARM Foundation (War Art Reporting and Memory), an organization dedicating to bringing together artists, reporters, academics and activists around the topic of contemporary conflict. “Sarajevo survived,” Rémy explains. “It is also a symbol of resistance.”
In an era of fleeting public attention, where audiences are increasingly impervious to the images of human suffering that permeate their television screens, Rémy doesn’t report with the goal of shaping policy or generating a particular response from Western governments. Rather, he sees himself as a messenger for those people who are living through war: “I wouldn’t betray those people I meet in Libya or in the Central African Republic,” he emphasizes. Whether Western readers react to his reporting, well, that’s up to them.
WARM has gotten its start supporting several projects including Abounaddara, a group of anonymous filmmakers involved in emergency cinema in Syria and the theatrical production of The Secret of Raspberry Jam in Sarajevo.
WARM’s most ambitious project to date was launched in June 2014 with the weeklong “World WARM I Festival,” which began on the centennial anniversary of the assassination of Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sofia. Guests from the Middle East, Africa, Europe, and the Americas attended the festival, which featured exhibitions, film screenings, conferences and workshops highlighting the work of individuals who are dedicated to telling the harrowing stories of modern-day conflict. Some of the festival’s featured projects, included the interactive web documentary and photography exhibition Grozny: Nine Cities, which explores the aftermath of the Chechen wars, and the photography exhibition Testament, which displayed a collection of photographs taken by the late photojournalist Chris Hondros that spanned over a decade of coverage of the world’s conflicts since the late 1990s, including Kosovo, Afghanistan, the West Bank, Iraq, Liberia, Egypt, and Libya.
#Dysturb, a network of journalists dedicated to making photojournalism more accessible to a wider audience, got involved in last year’s events. #Dysturb plastered hard-hitting images in public spaces throughout Sarajevo that depicted what’s happening in places like Egypt, Afghanistan, and Georgia. more than 120 former Libyan rebels gathered in Sarajevo for the emotional world premiere of director Florent Marcie’s Tomorrow Tripoli: Revolution of the Rats, a documentary dedicated to their 2011 fight against Muammar Gaddafi’s regime.
Following the success of last year’s inaugural festival, the WARM Foundation is now planning its second festival, which will take place in Sarajevo from 28 June to 4 July 2015. This year’s event has attracted proposals from around the world, with many geared toward WARM’s dichotomous approach to conflict as both a collective voice while simultaneously presenting conflict through the unique perspective of each individual who experiences it.
A theme that emerges throughout the conversation with Rémy: “In a war, it is about chaos and violence. Every war is different, and in the same war, every day is different. Everyone should have the right to tell their unique stories.”
And this is the essence of WARM’s mission: “to tell the story with excellence and integrity.” Its past and future projects aim to present those stories often lost in the context of violent conflict to a wider international audience and to preserve such memories so that they can be passed on to future generations.

author: Leslie Woodward


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#ONEINTHREE | Balkan Diskurs
Chloé Gaillard
May 17th, 2015
In Bosnia and Herzegovina, one in three LGBT people have been victims of violence or extreme discrimination, but only every seventh incident has been reported to the police.
In Bosnia and Herzegovina, one in three LGBT people have been victims of violence or extreme discrimination, but only every seventh incident has been reported to the police. (Source: Pink Report – Annual Report on the State of the Human Rights of LGBT People in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 2014, Sarajevo Open Center, March 5, 2015). If you need help or more information, contact the Sarajevo Open Center.


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Macedonia – Countering Brutality in The Land of a Bloody Sun | Balkan Diskurs
Tatjana Milovanović
May 18th, 2015
“At this time, it is important that all citizens, regardless of their differences, understand that we are facing a political machine that threatens our right to life through the systematic destruction of our institutions,” Golubovska explains.
“We are not only here to demand justice for Martin Neshkovski, but to also stand united against the use of police brutality in the establishment of a dictatorship,” says Macedonian activist and protester Jasmina Golubovska in an exclusive interview with Balkan Diskurs.
On 5 May, protests began in Skopje after the leader of the main opposition party released recordings in which representatives of the ruling party were speaking openly about the murder of Martin Neshkovski.
Martin was a young man who was beaten to death by Igor Spasov, a member of the Macedonian police, during the public celebrations that followed the 2011 elections. Spasov was sentenced to 14 years in prison, but the recently released recordings aroused suspicions among a large portion of the Macedonian public who believe the governing party is standing behind this murder.
In addition to demanding a final resolution regarding the details of Martin’s murder, protesters are venting their frustrations with the country’s imposed political and social systems. Golubovska explained that the people should have the right to freedom of speech without the consequence of repression, to freely protest and question the authorities, and to be involved in the decision-making process.
According to Golubovska, the demands of the Macedonian citizens stem from their common desire to have a decent life in a 21st-century, democratic society, without fear of governmental and political imposition. Golubovska reveals that the only way to restore democratic values in Macedonia is through the resignation of the ruling party, the enforcement of criminal accountability regarding the way this regime was both established and has been run.
“At this time, it is important that all citizens, regardless of their differences, understand that we are facing a political machine that threatens our right to life through the systematic destruction of our institutions,” Golubovska explains.
Unfortunately, the protests have been repeatedly followed by vandalism, which has promptly been halted by the Macedonian police. Golubovska states that this is a natural reaction from discontented citizens and is to be expected. The second day of protests was peaceful, with a group of citizens (mostly women) standing between the police and protesters, calming tensions between the two sides.
“The police also need to understand that we are also doing this for them. They must decide to stand beside us, not against us,” says Golubovska.
The protests in Skopje are not the only reason Macedonia has made recent headlines in both the regional and international media. On 9 and 10 May, the northern Macedonian town of Kumanovo suffered an attack by a group of 30 armed men that left several people dead, resulted in the evacuation of a large number of residents, and destroyed several buildings and other infrastructure.
Both the media and Macedonian officials have described this event as a terrorist attack, which has not only served to further deepen existing tensions, but has also triggered fear among Macedonian citizens.
Golubovska remains determined, stating that the work of building a just world is difficult, but possible, adding that there is no room for giving up on efforts to achieve this goal.
“Do not let political parties obscure your reasoning with poverty, war or nationalism. Take action and take the responsibility to improve the communities in which you are living. It’s your future, so shape it,” she adds.


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Understanding Yugoslavia (Part I) | Balkan Diskurs
Marion Pineau
May 25th, 2015
Marion Pineau explores a key connection between the past and present in the Western Balkans : Yugo-nostalgia.
The first time I heard about Tito was during my history class when I was 13 or 14 years old. We were studying the Cold War and the opposition between the two superpowers: the Western bloc (i.e. the “good-democratic-liberal-capitalist United-States”) versus the Eastern bloc (i.e. the “bad-dictatorial-communist-socialist Soviet Union”). Even if Tito actually belonged to neither of them, he was still “labeled” in our westerners’ minds as a “communist dictator of the East.”
The collapse of Yugoslavia in the 90s, the bloody wars that followed and the 140,000 dead was, to my teachers, obvious proof that the system Tito built was not efficient. That is why I was so surprised, when I traveled in Slovenia and then moved to Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina, to discover the portrait of Tito in almost every coffee house, restaurant, hostel, cevabdzinica and buregdzinica. I then realized that I actually did not understand anything about the region, about Yugoslavia and its people.
The Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRY) was established in 1946 after the Partisans, led by Marshal Josip Broz Tito, freed the region from Nazi and fascist occupation. Initially one of Stalin’s favorite republics, the relations between the two became gradually less cordial as Tito had no intention of handing over the power he had gained, or accepting any foreign intervention or influence in his country. Consequently, the Yugoslav communist party was expelled from the Cominform in 1948 and Yugoslavia was the only Eastern European country to resist Soviet Union pressure. In the 1960s, Tito cooperated with leaders of African and Asian countries, including Egypt, India and Indonesia, to promote the concept of non-alignment and to stay independent of the United States and the USSR.
Tito, who led Yugoslavia for 35 years, was a skillful politician and probably one of the most influential manipulators of postwar politics. His strategy during the Cold War brought some concrete benefits to Yugoslav citizens. Even if he maintained the Communist Party’s monopoly on power, its leadership was softer than the other communist regimes in the rest of Eastern Europe. Tito wanted to form a communist community of “new people” in socialist Yugoslavia that was based on the concept of Brotherhood and Unity. For these reasons, the fall of the Berlin wall, which marked the collapse of the Eastern bloc, was not experienced the same way in Yugoslavia as in other socialist states.
“For East Germans, Hungarians, Czechs, etc. many things were worse before 1989 – they lived poorly, had no freedoms and could not leave their country without special permission,” says Teofil Pančič, a political commentator. “We, on the other hand, traveled wherever we wanted […]. Concerning living standards, we used to say that we had everything, whereas they basically had nothing. Then we had this war, whereas they experienced a kind of normalization of their lives. [For them], every year since 1989 has been better than the previous, while every year for people in the former Yugoslavia, apart perhaps from the Slovenes, has been worse.” (Excerpt from Yugonostalgia: Restorative and Reflective Nostalgia in former Yugoslavia by Nicole Lindstrom.)
Indeed, perhaps the most common form of Yugo-nostalgia is the most ordinary: nostalgia for a past that appears better than the present. The Yugo-nostalgia refers to the nostalgic, emotional attachment to both subjectively and objectively desirable aspects associated with the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and Tito, the charismatic leader who personified it. These aspects are the economic security, a sense of solidarity, a socialist ideology, multiculturalism, non-alignment, customs and traditions, and a more rewarding way of life.
According to Ivica Buljan, a Croatian theatre director, “Yugoslavia represents a fictive country, like some kind of Atlántida [Atlantis], when we were gathering in our neighborhood to help our neighbor or lone mother; when it was all the same if a classmate’s name in elementary school was Refik [Bosnian name] or Janez [Slovenian name]; when it made no difference if we lived with family in one room, and with a bathroom, which we shared with other families …; when solidarity ruled among ordinary people.”
Even if Tito kept a tight control, Yugoslavs enjoyed free education and health care, open borders (the Yugoslav passport allowed citizens to travel almost everywhere in the world without a visa), a job for life, and above all, safety and peace. “People forgot that Tito was a dictator because they remember there was peace and stability,” says Slobodan Markovic, a political scientist from Serbia.
Yugo-nostalgia is critical of the perceived faults of the successor countries, many of which are still burdened by the consequences of the wars and are in various stages of economic and political transition. These faults are variously identified as individualism, corruption, economic difficulties and higher crime rates, as well as a general chaos in administrative and other state institutions. However, this nostalgia does not only find its origin in war.
Slovenia, a prosperous country of 2 million and well integrated in the European Union since 2004, was the first republic to secede from Yugoslavia almost 24 years ago, without suffering the consequences of the brutal wars of its neighbors. Nevertheless, many Slovenes miss belonging to Yugoslavia, a large multicultural country of 25 million people. Vanja Alič, singer in the Slovenian Yugo-nostalgic rock band Zaklonišče Prepeva remarks, “We all had a certain pride. We were raised to believe that Yugoslavia was a powerful country, a big country, and a beautiful country. That was a great feeling… Now there is none of that. Slovenia is now an unimportant, peripheral and parochial country, often confused with Slovakia.”
Yugo-nostalgia exists in almost every country of former Yugoslavia and in multiple forms. It can be nostalgia for cheesy folk music and the days when the family summer holiday in Croatia did not mean border checkpoints and security. Or it can be more…
Continue to Part Two.

author: Marion Pineau


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#YUGONOSTALGIA | Balkan Diskurs
Chloé Gaillard
May 26th, 2015
Eh, those were the days…
Eh, those were the days…


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Tito’s Bunker: Remembering a Futuristic Past | Balkan Diskurs
Marion Pineau
May 27th, 2015
Tito’s bunker is one of the largest and best-kept State secrets of the former Yugoslavia. Clara Casagrande and Marion Pineau explore.
Located 50km southwest of Sarajevo in the town of Konjic, Tito’s bunker is one of the largest and best-kept State secrets of the former Yugoslavia. The construction, started in March 1953 upon Tito’s order, was done in total secrecy; not even the nearest neighbors knew about it. The teams of workers were replaced regularly so that no one would know too much about the bunker, and the workers were even transported there blindfolded so they wouldn’t know its exact location. Even upon the bunker’s completion 26 years later in September of 1979, few people knew about its existence, and only four generals were allowed to enter it.
Designed to shelter the country’s ruling elites in the case of a nuclear attack, the bunker, with a total area of 6,854 m2, could resist a bomb attack of up to 25 kilotons, which is far more powerful than the bombs dropped on Hiroshima. It could then accommodate President Tito, his family and his closest associates (approximately 350 people), so that they could continue to govern the country—or what was left of it. They could live and work self-sufficiently for six months without ever coming up for air and without any contact with the outside world. Residents were provided with everything from food and drinking water to air conditioning and cable television in every room.
The bunker cost around 5 billion dollars, making it the third most expensive project of the Socialist Republic of Yugoslavia. Today, it is still not easy to access. The entrance looks like an ordinary house, at the end of a lonely road just east of Konjic.
The shelter is built in the shape of a horseshoe. On the top of the “horseshoe” are the entrances, and inside the horseshoe—in the most heavily protected sector—are the blocks designated for use by the president and the government. The innermost point is located 202 meters from the entrance and 280 meters from the top of the mountain.
The bunker is like a labyrinth with a complex of residential areas (with more than 100 bedrooms), conference rooms, offices, and operational centers with direct phone connections to the presidents of all Yugoslavian federal republics—the “presidential bloc.” It has its own generators, water supply and air purification systems, which still work to this day. The workspaces and the dining room of Josip Broz Tito and his wife, Jovanka, along with the room of Prime Minister Dzemal Bijedić are particularly superior and larger compared to the ordinary rooms. Throughout the building, you can see pictures of the famous leader.
When Yugoslavia collapsed, just before the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina, Serbs and Croats had largely dismantled military installations in the region. In 1992, the Serbian high command in Belgrade gave the order to destroy the bunker, but a Bosnian military guard refused to carry out the order and sabotaged the operation, managing to save the bunker. Since then, the building, along with all its signs, symbols, furnishings, and instruments, has been carefully preserved.
Today, the Ministry of Defense of Bosnia is the owner of the nuclear bunker, but it is now open to the public and functions as an underground modern art gallery, welcoming a biennial of contemporary art every second year. Even if Tito never actually got to see the finished work, the impressive construction seems to serve as a massive memorial in his memory and relic of the former republic of Yugoslavia, which attracts more and more tourists from throughout the region and the world each year.
We thank Amela Hujdur from Visit Konjic Agency for the visit and translation.


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Vibeke Lilloe: It is Necessary to Empower BiH Women | Balkan Diskurs
Marion Pineau
May 29th, 2015
On March 22nd 2015, the Post-Conflict Research Center (PCRC) had the honor of meeting with Ms. Vibeke Lilloe, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Norway in Sarajevo. The ensuing discussion explored the Embassy’s efforts to support peace and reconciliation processes and strengthen civil society organizations in Bosnia-Herzegovina, with a specific focus on their work concerning women, victims of sexual violence and youth. Marion Pineau and Chloé Gaillard report.
“Norway, in addition to the Embassy here, is a staunch supporter of gender equality and women’s issues,” begins Ms. Lilloe. “It’s necessary to invest in the empowerment of women first and foremost from a human rights angle. It’s the right of every woman to be treated as equal to men.”
“Women are also key actors for economic prosperity in all countries,” she adds. “If you look around you, the most affluent and prosperous countries are modern democracies that are utilizing their whole work force, not just half […]. It makes perfect economic sense to empower women.”
The Ambassador cites her own country as a case in point, stating: “Many think that Norway is a rich and prosperous country primarily as a result of the oil and gas we have discovered along our coast, but this is not true. An equally important contributing factor is the high degree of gender equality and inclusion within the workforce.”
This belief in the fundamental connection between human rights, gender empowerment, and economic development underlies much of the Embassy’s current work in Bosnia, where, in addition to simply attaining prosperity, the development of a healthy economy is deemed essential to processes of peace-building, reconciliation and the realization of a stable and sustainable society.
However, as is the case in many post-war societies, Bosnia performs poorly when it comes to gender equality. Traditional and patriarchal norms and values, compounded by a legacy of war, inhibit women from taking an active role within public, social and economic processes. Gender equality and women’s empowerment are not prioritized in dominant political agendas related to public processes in Bosnia. They are marginalized with regard to holding high-level positions involved in decision-making processes, and, as a result, are limited to lower-ranking jobs within the labor market.
Within such an environment, gender inequality, combined with other social exclusions, can create severe vulnerabilities. In Bosnia, this primarily relates to the challenges that victims of wartime and other forms of sexual violence must face. Twenty years after the war, sexual violence is still a societal taboo and victims are continue to suffer from high levels of stigmatization. In addition, the majority of those who suffered sexual violence during the war are yet to receive any form of justice or compensation.
According to Ms. Lilloe, “the best way to help such women [is] to reintegrate them back into society. The best way of doing this is to secure paid work for them, as holding paid positions gives these women a new sense of self-respect and a feeling that they matter within their society.”
The Embassy’s support of the Association Udruzene exemplifies the merits of this approach. The association aims to use knitting as a way to confront war traumas and to reintegrate women into society through economic and psychosocial empowerment. Medica Zenica is also involved in the project, providing psychosocial and medical support. The Ambassador explains that, for some women, “the knitting sessions [are] the only kind of therapy they have ever received.” Through the work of the association, they finally feel acknowledged, which enables them to regain a sense of dignity.
The Ambassador plans for the Embassy to continue this work for the foreseeable future, assisting not only with victims of wartime sexual violence, but also with women in any difficult situation. The Norwegian and Swedish Embassies are currently co-funding a collaborative project between the DCAF Centre for Security, Development and Rule of Law and Atlantic Initiative, with the aim of improving the standards of treatment that victims of domestic violence receive in the Bosnian judicial system.
Ms. Lilloe also emphasizes the crucial role that young people must play in these peace-building and development processes, citing the danger the country is facing as a result of the current exodus of youth. “Many well-educated young people are leaving the country to seek greener pastures,” she explains. “[The] people are this country’s best asset,” adding that “[young people] are the future.”
The Ambassador elucidates that giving youth a proper education and the space to express their views, concerns and ideas are crucial to involving them in processes of reconciliation, achieving sustainable peace, and persuading other young people to stay. Above all “they deserve a bright future at home,” she concludes.
PCRC is grateful to the Norwegian Embassy for their support of our project “Ordinary Heroes,” and would like to thank Ambassador Lilloe and her staff for their time and warm welcome.