text:
The Social and Economic Dimensions of Transitional Justice | Balkan Diskurs
Nevena Medić
February 5th, 2015
In disadvantaged and dismantled societies, Transitional Justice (TJ) will lose all credibility if it has not dealt with social injustice, corruption, exploitation of resources and economic violence. Moving towards reconciliation in Bosnia and Herzegovina requires the rethinking of TJ from the very beginning, while inclusion of economic and social rights is essential for TJ effectiveness.
The social security that was once enjoyed in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and included a wide range of guaranteed social and economic rights, has disappeared with the fall of the Iron Curtain and the outbreak of the Bosnian War. Bosnia went through two transitions—a post-socialist transition and a transition from war to peace. Economic liberalization, and the transition to a self-regulating free market, has contributed to the gradual increase of poverty and the huge gap between rich and poor. “Misplaced” international aid, smuggling, and the black market created new elites, primarily enriched by the “war advantage.” This burdens poorer households, further entrenching, and even exacerbating, the injustices that underpin conflict in the first place.
In this sense, all citizens of BiH, apart from the political elites that profited from the war—widely known as war-profiteers—could be considered victims of transition. The question is how to deal with violations of economic and social rights committed not only during conflict, but also after conflict by tycoons and regional interest groups who, through greedy privatization and corruption, brought this society to the edge of existence. Transitioning to economic liberalization left a space for structural violence by elites that any existing Transitional Justice mechanism failed to anticipate. These economic degradations brought about by such individuals have caused tremendous suffering for the entire society and go without punishment.
In the context of Transitional Justice (TJ), it is important to mention that, as a result of Cold War confrontations, the notion of civil and political rights, as recognized by Western liberals, was introduced as the core of society; violation of such rights soon became a cornerstone of International Law. In the Eastern bloc, which then primarily consisted of communist countries, priority was placed on economic and social rights as a function of the socialist state. Several factors, including the fall of communism, Western supremacy, and a shift toward economic liberalization resulted in the enforcement of Western values in the East, thus placing civil and political rights as priority over economic and social rights. Consequently, human rights violations during war and transition are now presented in a more political nature without connection to economic realities, therefore, my argument asserts that TJ has also become more connected with civil and political rights and often fails to deal with an essential and integral point—economic crimes within transition. Thus, maximum potential to transform society with regard to truth and reconciliation cannot be reached without expansion of a TJ paradigm geared toward the inclusion of social and economic rights. Let us now consider the development of TJ and its mechanisms.
During the late 1980s, Ruti Teitel, for the first time, formulated TJ in a technical way. The term was widely discussed and criticized because it combined two apparently irreconcilable elements: the idea of justice and the idea of change, which mark both tragedy and hope. In search of a stable and peaceful society, new governments, with support from the international community, developed a set of mechanisms broadly known as Transitional Justice Mechanisms, which would presumably help societies face their past and move toward a democratic, rights-based future. TJ consists of both judicial and non-judicial processes, including prosecution initiatives, the facilitation of initiatives related to the right to truth, the delivery of reparations, institutional reform, and national consultations. Those mechanisms have two primary aims: to provide relief for the victims and to create or enhance opportunities for the transformation of political systems and social processes. TJ is not some special form of justice, but rather a justice adapted to societies undergoing transformation.
In a broader sense, TJ refers to how societies overcome social divisions or seek reconciliation, and how they create a justice system to prevent future atrocities. There is a limited scope that effectively addresses the underlying and contributing factors to conflict and oppression, such as social, economic, and cultural discrimination or deprivation. Louise Arbour, former United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, asks why economic, social and cultural rights (ESC) have not traditionally been a central part of TJ initiatives, and whether there are real impediments to the pursuit of such a comprehensive ideal of justice for societies in transition. She further concludes that the reality of the marginalization of ESC rights is reflected in the articulation of our conception of justice itself.
The first and oldest mechanism of TJ is its criminal justice mechanism. It emerged during the post-WWII period when the Nuremberg Trials were established to address the atrocities committed by Nazi Germany. The aim of these trials was to reduce collective guilt to individual accountability. Philosophically, it has been argued that the trials relied on a legalist paradigm that was ill-suited to address the social forces and psychological dimensions that characterize mass violence. Let us imagine that there was a possibility to bring cases of war profiteers—nowadays elites—who steal from the citizens and enrich themselves off of the backs of an underprivileged society damaged by the war to the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY). Deprivation of social and economic rights in BiH, and crimes committed within the scope of transitional economic liberalization, largely remain unpunished. These crimes, like many others, are connected with civil and political rights, or more precisely, with bodily integrity, which emphasizes the importance of human autonomy and self-determination. But the prosecution of such crimes is not in the best interest of those international groups who also profited from the Bosnian conflict through the selling of weapons and “their politics” in the region. The logic of these politics went hand in hand with neoliberal doctrine: first they fought, then peace was made, and, in the aftermath, the factories were robbed by bargain privatization that filled the pockets of the present-day elite; an elite that would again find “investors” for privatization and, once more, fill their pockets.
The second mechanism of TJ is the truth commission. Described as temporary ad hoc institutions of inquiry, oftentimes government sponsored, truth commissions aim to investigate and report on major human rights abuses. Truth commissions are not judicial bodies, and thus have no authority to administer punishment. Their fundamental aim is truth-seeking through investigation, interviewing, the creation of state archives, and the publication of findings, which help to establish facts about a repressive regime’s secretive and destructive actions. The term”truth” has prompted much debate. The advocates of TJ argue that expressing the truth leads to a process of national catharsis, which can channel energy toward national reconciliation. One of the key questions is: “Which ‘truth’ will emerge?” In the Balkans, many truths exist, and the difficulty lies in how to reconcile all these truths into one agreed-upon history.
As a third mechanism of TJ, institutional reforms that build fair and efficient public institutions can enable post-conflict and transitional governments to prevent the recurrence of future human rights violations. Such reforms must take place in order to transform the military, police, judiciary, and related state institutions from instruments of repression and corruption to instruments of public service and integrity that can regain a society’s trust. On another front, this reformed system should provide legitimate support for the provision of security. The Dayton Peace Agreement, while successful in putting an end to war, established constitutional structures that further entrenched ethnic divides. The lack of confidence in BiH’s institutions is a significant problem, therefore, we have a situation with a high demand for justice and with few resources to address such a demand. Where extrajudicial mechanisms are concerned, there is a need within society for the restoration of a moral philosophy. With regard to institutional reforms as a TJ mechanism, The Constitution of BiH, and annex IV of Dayton Agreement, mentions only the right to education out of the range of economic and social rights that citizens of one country should be entitled to.
As a final mechanism, reparations represent a form of compensation awarded to victims of human rights violations for damages they’ve incurred. The aim is often to provide recognition and respect to victims and survivors of such violations. Reparations involve the direct distribution to victims of a set of goods, which can include economic transfers, both material and symbolic. Reparations such as this can often have the largest impact on victims’ everyday lives while also providing a grand gesture toward the recognition of their suffering. This is the only mechanism that directly remedies the socio-economic conflict. However, the amount of money involved is rarely large enough to be life changing. Studies have shown that most one-time payments are used to pay off debts for medical or school fees, or are simply consumed without creating any real long-term changes in the recipient’s standard of living. In BiH, the right to reparation is based on a right that has been violated and on a disability that must be proven, while the amount of money is determined according to the degree of disability. Paradoxically, military victims of the war receive greater reparations than civilian war victims, which is evidence of a socially unjust system.
Let us now more broadly discuss the economic and social dimensions of TJ. There is an assumption that civil and political rights are basic freedoms, for which violations can be found, whereas economic, social and cultural rights are subject to priorities established in the political arena and are considered entitlements that states may only be able to provide over the long term depending upon available resources. Therefore, these rights are frequently misunderstood and resistance toward their enforcement by TJ mechanisms has been, as a logical result, inevitable.
Why does TJ often ignore ESC rights? One explanation relies on the notion that it is easier to address violations, violators and remedies of civil and political rights, particularly the concomitant development of international criminal law, which mostly treats those civil and political rights linked to bodily integrity. Not surprisingly, there have been very few prosecutions under international criminal law for massive violations of ESC rights in conflict; the Vienna Declaration on Human Rightsseeks to end qualitative division between civic and political rights, and economic and social rights, by stating that: “All human rights are universal, indivisible, interdependent, and interrelated. The international community must treat human rights globally in a fair and equal manner, on the same footing, and with the same emphasis.”
The right to an adequate standard of living, including food and shelter, education, physical and mental health, social security, decent working conditions, cultural benefits, and rights to property are guaranteed by the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. However, in situations of armed conflict, deprivations of land, food, water, and medical care can kill large numbers of people, and even those who survive can suffer long-term damage that affects the quality and length of their lives. For these reasons, violations of economic and social rights can have a devastating effect, often extending across several generations, as victims are denied educational and medical services, social protection, and opportunities for employment. In the broader Bosnian context, inequality and oppression are maintained by political elites who have built a strong foundation for further manipulation and exploitation during times of peace and transition.
For transitional processes to be more efficient and long-term, more needs to be done to address the overall disaffection with the deep social inequalities that exist within post-conflict societies. Little is said about the long-term socioeconomic healing of post-conflict societies, and even less is said about overcoming existing inequalities as a necessity for achieving social justice that can establish a sustainable and peaceful future. Rama Mani explores the concept of social justice, arguing that, in an impoverished and devastated society, transitional justice loses all credibility if it does not deal with social injustice, corruption, and the exploitation of resources. She accepts that, for many survivors, everyday injustices rooted in historical inequalities may be just as important, if not more important, than the extraordinary injustices committed during the conflicts. She also emphasizes that the issues of social justice seem to lie just beyond the traditional borders of transitional justice.
Justice that is rooted in substantive equality requires the redressing of past wrongs and enabling an equality of future opportunity as articulated in John Rawls’ second principle of justice, which states that social and economic inequalities are to be arranged so that offices and positions are open to everyone and so that they are of the greatest benefit to the least-advantaged members of society. These considerations should provide the initial steps for TJ within past and present contexts. Rawls further states that injustice is simply inequality that inhibits the benefits of all. Implementation of concrete economic and social programs can reduce core injustices and put social justice as a primary societal goal. This, however, contradicts the neoliberal paradigm because it requires state involvement. In the end, one has to ask: “What is more difficult to live with? The perpetrators of the crime or the profiteers that enjoy the fruits of these crimes?”

created: February 5th, 2015

author: Nevena Medić


text:
The Scars of Transition: A City Forgotten, a Generation Lost | Balkan Diskurs
Sara Velaga
February 6th, 2015
From dawn till dusk in the case of Bosnia-Herzegovina, transition always entails a dose of risk. Most of the time, it is simply fear of loss and failure. Our environment was unfortunately struck by both. Everything that once was is lost, and the fear of what will come tomorrow continues.
Instead of hoping for a better future, we constantly ask ourselves: “What am I doing here?” Harsh words, injustice, and false promises all leave their mark. The resulting scars are particularly painful for the youth and are further deepened by the realization that they will never receive what ought to be theirs.
Naim Pivalic is a modest, hard-working young man. He is 23 years old and has been unemployed since he graduated from high school. The transitional process has unavoidably marked his life, and for him it seems impossible to believe in a brighter future. He says that young people are deprived of their right to work and that his town of Jajce seems unable to offer any opportunities for its youth.
Educated or not, young people are left to find their own solutions and, as a consequence, often get caught up in gambling and betting. Young people sacrifice all they have in exchange for instant and short-term gratification. “The main issue is that our reality is entirely shaped by politics,” says Boris Djogas (22), who decided to try his luck out abroad. He left Bosnia-Herzegovina because he finds it humiliating that educated people work for meager wages while the political elite take what does not belong to them. It is almost the unwritten rule that you must belong to a certain party in order to find employment. This is one of the main reasons Boris left Bosnia. He is one of many that have chosen to leave this country. Brain drain is an ever-present phenomenon in Bosnia and is rapidly increasing. People do not want to collect crumbs off of other people’s tables, but instead want to be given an equal opportunity to earn a living based on their knowledge and skills.
Generally speaking, the transitional period has made few positive contributions to the situation in Bosnia, and our local community, in particular, has remained marginalized. Jajce has entirely lost its value as a historic city. The second AVNOJ (Anti-Fascist Council for the National Liberation of Yugoslavia) session, its monuments, and its waterfalls make Jajce an important part of our history. However, during the transitional process, Jajce has seemingly been forgotten. “Young people who are supposed to build the city’s future have been neglected and no one is investing in their future,” says Asja Sahman, a student from Banja Luka. A small and irregular budget intended for investments towards youth development, the absence of scholarships and unprofessional staff in the education system all create a system that makes young people doubt whether their hard work is worth it.
Anamarija Rajic, a second year Economics and Management student from Banja Luka, points out that it is necessary to invest in youth activism and motivate young people to engage in society’s progress. Jajce does not have any universities, which means that leaving the city is the only option for people seeking higher education.
“Reconciliation and progress are well conceived, but poorly implemented,” says Nedim Glamocic, an Economics graduate from Sarajevo. He claims that the transitional process has only deepened divisions and caused disappointment and despair. National divisions were created; nations that, in reality, only correspond to certain political parties. He goes on to explain that each political party appears to be dissatisfied with what it is given and, as a result, the middle class seems to be disappearing. The gap between rich and poor has become extremely wide. The middle class is disappearing because of the commonly used “destroy-buy-sell-get rich” logic.
Nedim continues by saying, “Bosnia is in a state of constant political war. Our ruling authorities do not impose nor suffer any sanctions. The only measure that exists is whether or not someone is suitable for cooperation, or rather, if they are willing to engage in collective theft. Everything is being destroyed and the people constantly suffer.” Nedim believes that the solutions to many of Bosnia’s problems include investing in agriculture and local products, creating a system with a clear separation of powers, abolishing the cantonal structure, and appointing one president for the country. He also believes that more support should be given to facilitate the establishment of new businesses that will provide an incentive for further development and will trigger increased activeness among Bosnia’s young people.
If all our young people leave the country, we will have serious issues to deal with. They must stay and fight! People capable of work need to stay; they are the only way out of this crisis. One such example is 30-year-old Bojan Lukic who decided to exchange our little Jajce for a chance to make it in the USA, with an ambition to succeed in building a new life. By talking to him I realized how challenging it was for others to accept the situation in Bosnia. It seems like young people have ideas, but no platform to utilize their potential. Bojan feels that his wishes are modest: a place to live, a car, and a job. When he was, in fact, offered a job he was appalled by the amount of money he was offered. “What am I supposed to do with so little?” he asked. What can an individual do with what is called “the minimum”, let alone an entire family? Have basic human needs and rights become a luxury? The deepest scar on a man’s face is left by the loss of his dignity.
Reconciliation has seemingly led to more division and has only connected the ruling elites with the leaders in crime. Good people have come to question what real values are, while young people are left to suffer the consequences of war. The situation seems hopeless. Radical change and increased awareness among the youth about the current situation must take place. One of the major obstacles on the road to unification and to the process of reconciliation is, of course, nationalism. It seems as though it is some hereditary disease being passed down from generation to generation. Young people who have had no contact with war distance themselves from the “others” with no adequate cause. Ours, yours, theirs… These seem to be the words that depict this transitional period.
Before we became fragmented pieces of a region, everything seemed to be okay. We called ourselves Yugoslavs and lived harmoniously. With transition we have become our own worst enemies and this is most evident in small communities such as Jajce. Individuals destroy communities. We need to clear our minds and start thinking straight. The scars of transition are, and will remain, present but a better tomorrow still exists.
We, the holders of what has been passed down to us, must do everything in our power to improve the situation. If a drop of water makes up the spectacular phenomenon that is the ocean, then a single man makes up the spectacular phenomenon that is humanity. Seemingly unimportant alone, together we are undoubtedly strong and must cooperate for the greater good. We all need just a little spark to inspire us to do great things. We are wrong to think that we are redundant and inadequate. We are all capable of fulfilling our goals; united we can do even more.

source: news-balkandiskurs

created: February 6th, 2015

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

author: Sara Velaga


text:
The Unusual Fate of a Former Detainee | Balkan Diskurs
Erna Duratović
February 10th, 2015
“A man must be happy after everything he survives; accept life if you don’t want to lose your mind.”
A camp guard, who detained him in Omarska in the early 1990s, today brings him mail, and he sees nothing unusual about it. His name is Kasim Pervanić. He is 52 years old and a returnee to Kevljani. Kasim sees nothing unusual about the fact that he comes across his former camp guards, because as he says, he is not afraid of anything. Their relationship is strictly professional — when someone needs something, they just have to do it.
The village of Kevljani is situated near Prijedor in northwest Bosnia-Herzegovina. The village is a few kilometers away from Omarska, a place that hosted a detention camp for Bosniaks and Croats and that was under Serb control. Today Kevljani has around 100 inhabitants, and, according to the 1991 census, there were 1,947. The residents are Bosniaks, and this village is under the administrative control of Republika Srpska.
Remembering the year when war in Bosnia begun, he says he could tell it was not going to end peacefully. He could not imagine the horrors that were about to happen. They warned him to leave. His close friend, an attorney, who was a member of Serb Democratic Party (SDS), advised him to flee.
With him in the camp was his younger brother Kemal Pervanić, who today works and lives in England. Kemal is the author of the movie Pretty Village, about the plight of Bosniaks from this area. Their parents managed to escape in time and avoid being detained in the camp. From the myriad of bad things that happened in the camp, there is also one example of the humane. His brother was sick and had to go to the toilet often. On the way back, guards would wait for them and beat them up. However, his now mailman used to occasionally, when he was alone, take his brother to toilet to spare him the beatings.
After seven months in the camp, on 14 December 1992, Kasim was freed, as was his brother. The Manjača camp was closed and people from International Red Cross took them to Karlovac.
For him and his family, new life began; they went to England where they stayed for two years. He says it was nice living in a developed country, but he was restless and even thought of taking his own life. He came to Bihać in 1995 and joined the Bosnian Army.
He decided to continue his life in Sanski Most, a town in northern Bosnia. He opened a shop, but he did not fare well because, as he says, when you are not local, you are not welcome. In search of a better life he went to the Netherlands. Before leaving, he visited Kevljani in November 1996, escorted by two soldiers who were his friends.
Unlike life in England, life in the Netherlands was happier. He liked it there, but they did not like him. He applied for asylum, but was told at his final hearing that he had to leave the country in 21 days. After regular appearances to the police station, he found out he was in the country illegally. He was one month away from five years in the Netherlands when he was arrested. He was detained for two months, then deported back to Bosnia. He returned to Sarajevo in 2003. Once again, he was at the beginning. For a little while, he went to Sanski Most and then he went to Kevljani.
Life starts anew in a devastated village; he built a house and bought some cattle. Kasim, full of life even after all that he went through, finds time to work with his religious group.
Most of the houses were rebuilt with personal funds, and only a few received foreign donations. Villages with Serb populations are near Kevljani. “Today, after everything, we can live one next to another, but never together,” explains Kasim.
Kevljani has a memorial built in the place where 602 persons were identified from two mass graves. The memorial has 12 plates with names written on them, and space has been left for two more plates, which will be built as soon as the funds are collected.
Kasim says that after the camp experience, he is incapable of feeling either great sorrow or great joy; he did not give up and did not allow himself to become hopeless. “A man must be happy after everything he survives; accept life if you don’t want to lose your mind.” Smiling, he says he makes rakija. He does not drink it, but he sells some and gives most of it to his friends.
“Life is a struggle for everyone, we are only given the place where we are born,” said this man with an unusual life story as we parted ways.

created: February 10th, 2015

author: Erna Duratović


text:
Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow: A Woman’s Story | Balkan Diskurs
Sara Velaga
March 6th, 2015
God created Adam, and from his rib He created Eve, thus making her dependent on man from the start. Rather than symbolizing a unique and separate entity in itself, womanhood became symbolic of a part—a part, which was meant to make a man whole.
Always in the shadows, a woman should be a mother, companion, homemaker, wife and sister. She should serve and provide. A woman should be “a woman”.
How much time do we need in the fight for equality if, indeed, we are truly equal?
At the mention of International Women’s Day in my hometown, many of us first think about the symbolic gifts and flowers that are to be given on that day. However, that is not what women fought for. Women need not be noticed only one day a year.
My grandmother Slavica, whom we will symbolically call Yesterday, is an example of a self-sacrificing, determined and tenacious woman and mother enduring the difficult mission of raising a child as a single parent. All of her personal needs were forgotten during the war, as was the case for most of her peers. With a look of melancholy, she comments on today’s celebration of International Women’s Day. Yesterday recalls how 8 March was celebrated during “her time”.
“When I was your age, my child, this holiday was a powerful incentive for, and was indicative of, female independence and equality. Today, it has been commercialized to degrade women.”
My mother Tanja is an example of a woman we will symbolically call “Today”. Like grandma Slavica, she is a single mother with two children, who is also unemployed. “Today” is marginalized by society because she lacks a man in her life. Despite all this, she is independent and, for her, 8 March is a day that symbolizes the success of the female fight for equality in the mountainous Balkans.
“When I see all those colorful gifts and flowers that are being given to women on that day, I have to ask myself if those men see the true value in women during the other days of the year. If those men do not recognize this value, 8 March has no substance because then it has only served to reinforce that women be given visibility on just one day each year.”
Looking back at the generations of women in my family I see a common thread that binds them together, and that is the thread of injustice inflicted upon them by men and by the society in which they live. Regardless of whether we are referring to the past or the present, the circumstances have remained the same.
My name is Sara, and I symbolize the woman “Tomorrow”. Young, ambitious, honest and ready for the time in which a woman is recognized as equal. A time in which she is aware that equality is not a passive state and becomes, in essence, the female activist. My voice must be heard and my needs, for which I must heroically fight, must be transparently represented. We, the women of “Tomorrow”, should challenge the stereotypes and judgments. Our struggle for an open-minded society that values women as man’s equal has just begun.
If one day I opt for motherhood and have a daughter who will become the “heiress” to the next generation of the Velaga women, I want her to be brave and to believe she can accomplish anything she sets her mind to. I want her to know that Women’s Day is not just one day each year, but every day of her life. I will tell her that, despite all the ups and downs, or whether she marries or not, a woman is equally worthy and nobody has the right to claim otherwise. I will prove this to her through the examples of women from the Velaga family.
Yes, a woman can do anything! We should, can and will act in all spheres of society. It is unacceptable to tolerate those stereotypical stories about women and how their only functions are motherhood and housework. There is too much talk of alpha males and dependent women.
Bosnian society needs to experience a cold splash of reality, for which it is obviously not ready. Maybe now it is time for the alpha female.

created: March 6th, 2015


text:
In Honor of International Women’s Day: Combatting Gender Stereotypes | Balkan Diskurs
Balkan Diskurs
March 8th, 2015
The Post-Conflict Research Center in Sarajevo speaks with four women who provide a striking contrast to the way women are usually portrayed in Bosnian society.
This accusation could not be farther from the truth, but Pezić-Ahmetpašić says that criticism actually works to motivate her.
“Any critique is welcome, because every critique gives me motivation for further development, makes me more ambitious, more determined, and a more dedicated athlete. I always find a place in a gym full of smug men, because this is a sport to which I am dedicated and which I love,” she said.
Pezić-Ahmetpašić provides a striking contrast to the way women are usually portrayed in conservative Bonsian society – as weak, dependent victims whose worth is measured by their attractiveness and reproductive abilities. Even the Bosnian language works against women in certain ways. We live in a society that constantly rejects the grammatical feminine form for words such as soldier, pilot, delegate, and psychologist. There is no masculine version for words like hostess, stewardess or nurse.
After marriage, only a small number of women in Bosnia-Herzegovina will keep their name – and face the consequences for doing so. In the hallway you will almost certainly meet a neighbor who will ask if you live in an extra-marital partnership because there are two names on the door. And if you at any point state that you don’t want to get married, your success will be completely undermined. Even if you win the Nobel Prize you will be considered less successful than if you had gotten married and had children.
It is incredibly difficult to go against the grain in Bosnian society, but let’s turn to the few women brave enough to be different, who are currently excelling in stereotypically “male” fields.
Zlata Delić, from Doboj, has been a professional soldier in the Armed Forces of Bosnia and Herzegovina (AFBiH) for more than three years. Like her male colleagues, she handles sophisticated weaponry, drives military vehicles and participates in fire drills. She told the Post-Conflict Research Center (PCRC) that she does not encounter any gender stereotypes or prejudice from her fellow soldiers.
Aida dr. Sinanović is also part of the AFBIH, but as an officer and doctor.
“This is my fifth year as a deployed major,” she told PCRC. “I am receiving a major’s salary for my work and I am waiting to obtain this rank. I am a commander of a medical unit which has 50 military and civilian personnel. I never had any gender-based problems.”
She added that she works on gender-related projects, and that UN Security Council Resolution 1325 – which addresses the role women should play in conflict management, conflict resolution, and sustainable peace – “is discussed and respected in AFBiH.”
Maira Brkić, from Gračanica, is an economist by education but chose hunting as her hobby when she was 19.
“When I decided to become a gamekeeper, many people were looking at me in amazement. When I took the gamekeepers’ exam, there were 50 men with me and not a single woman.”
Brkić added that she doesn’t pay attention to stereotypes and thinks a woman can do any job she wants to do. She just needs good will and determination.
To all the women in Bosnia and throughout the world who forge their own paths, who work to end discrimination, who ignore stereotypes and don’t let others determine their capabilities, PCRC in Sarajevo wishes you a very happy International Women’s Day.

created: March 8th, 2015

author: Balkan Diskurs


text:
Fighting for Visibility: a Bosnian Coming Out Story | Balkan Diskurs
Chloé Gaillard
March 14th, 2015
LGBT persons are still subject to stigmatization and discrimination in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Chloé Gaillard speaks with three young Bosnians who agreed to share their personal coming out stories.
On 17 May 1990, the World Health Organization (WHO) removed homosexuality from its International Classification of Diseases. Yet even though most of the member states that makeup the WHO are committed to fighting discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender, some member states remain hesitant to fully implement the necessary measures that guarantee efficient protection, thus creating opportunities for violence and discrimination against the Lesbian, Gay, Bi- and Transsexual (LGBT) community.
Bosnia-Herzegovina is one of those WHO member states in which LGBT persons are still subject to stigmatization and discrimination. This small country of 3.8 million inhabitants is composed of three constituent ethnic groups: 48% Bosniaks, 37.1% Serbs and 14.3% Croats. Since the end of the war in 1995 and the Dayton Peace Agreement, Bosnia has been divided into two entities: the Federation of Bosnia-Herzegovina (FBiH), which contains a Bosniak and Croat majority, and the Republika Srpska (RS), which is primarily inhabited by Bosnian Serbs. In addition to the two entities there is the autonomous Brčko District. Both entities legalized homosexual relationships between 1998 and 2000, making the early 2000s a source of new hope for the LGBT community.
In 2003, a law on gender equality, which prohibits discrimination based on gender and sexual orientation without explicit mention of homosexuality or gender, was adopted at the national level. The adoption of gender equality laws saw the first associations of activists and supporters of LGBT rights begin to emerge in Bosnia, not knowing that this wave of hope was soon to be crushed by violence.
The Queer Sarajevo Festival, one of the first events ever in Bosnia with the aim to increase visibility of the LGBT community, was organized in September 2008. Almost immediately, the choice of the date was highly criticized due to the coinciding Ramadan celebrations. Numerous events were supposed to be held during the five-day festival, however, organizers were forced to cancel the festival at the end of the first day, due to an attack from a group of Wahhabi fundamentalists and hooligans, who assaulted several participants and injured eight people, including policemen.
Since the 2008 attacks, the LGBT community has become almost invisible and all events organized to increase its visibility are subject to threats that often lead to violence. Over time, and despite the progress made in neighboring countries such as Croatia – which recently legalized civil union for same sex couples — the situation in Bosnia has not improved. On 1 February 2014, a group of masked men attacked people attending the Merlinka Festival in the Art Cinema Kriterion in Sarajevo, underscoring the minimal progress made since the violent events in 2008. Even more alarming are surveys from 2013 that revealed that 59.5% of Bosnians consider sex change repulsive and that 56.5% of the respondents believe “homosexuality must be cured.” In light of this survey and the general climate of misunderstanding and violence in Bosnia regarding this issue, a key question arises: Is it possible for people from the LGBT community to live a safe and open life in Bosnia?
Being born in a world where society expects you to be heterosexual, falling out of that “norm” implies that homosexuals must “come out.” As defined in the Pink Report (2014), the concept of “coming out”, derived from the phrase “coming out of the closet”, is routinely used to describe public or open declarations and affirmation of one’s (homo)sexual orientation.
Niki, Selma and Aleks are three young Bosnians living in Sarajevo who agreed to share their personal coming out stories.
Niki is a Bosnian LGBT activist and identifies as queer. She realized her identity at an early age and understood when she was 5 years old that she could not see herself “in the man-woman concept.” Growing up, “[she] could cope with the understanding that gender normativity is a social construct and that it is perfectly fine to be outside of the ‘box’.”
“I was 14 when I came out to my parents and I felt pretty lost because it was also a challenge to come out to myself. In the end, it wasn’t a big deal as my parents fully supported me. It was not always easy and I have not always chosen to reveal my sexuality. For instance, when I was involved in working in academia and for private companies I never addressed that ‘issue’ so as to prevent worst case scenarios such as being fired.”
Selma is also an LGBT activist who came out as a lesbian before realizing that she could also be attracted to people “with genders other than male and female”, therefore, she now identifies as pansexual. Being part of a very religious family means coming out is a very difficult step for her to take. “My parents don’t know anything. I’m pretty much “out” in college, and with my friends. When it comes to family I am out to my sister and my cousin. My parents are deeply religious and have both been physically violent towards me. I won’t be coming out to them anytime soon, because I don’t feel that it’s a safe environment… I am tired of leading a double life and I just want to be who I am.”
This feeling of insecurity is dominant within the LGBT community, especially for women. Indeed, violence against lesbians is common in Bosnia and lesbians aged 20 to 30 are the most exposed to discrimination, with 74% of this age group having experienced some form of discrimination. “Transphobia is also a big issue in the country,” explains Aleks, an LGBT activist and leading figure in the trans community in the Balkans. “I have experienced both transphobia and homophobia. I was beaten up many times. There was a lot of verbal and psychological violence related to my gender identity. Unfortunately, it’s hard to choose just one example because there are a lot of them,” Aleks explains. “Coming out as a trans* person differs from other coming out scenarios. A trans person who starts hormonal therapy and undergoes surgery has no choice but to ‘come out’ because physical changes are inevitable.”
Aleks came out as a trans* person when he was 22 years old, requesting that people use the pronoun “he” when referring to him. According to Aleks, coming out is still very much a political act in Bosnia and he believes it is important to declare your sexual orientation. “I personally don’t like labels but it’s extremely important for political reasons and for the visibility of the trans* community. It’s not easy to come out to your family and friends, especially when you live in a very conservative, patriarchal and heteronormative society. There is a lot of violence and hatred towards the LGBT community, so people don’t feel safe and are often afraid of being rejected and kicked out of their home. Coming out is a very important step in the fight for the rights of sexual minorities and in allowing people to finally be themselves.”
Within the context of a deeply patriarchal society lacking political maturity and the will to promote the inclusion of ethnic and other minorities, such as Roma, Jews and disabled people, LGBT issues seem to be on the very margin of socio-political visibility and acceptance. Due to Bosnian society’s repressive mechanisms and institutionalized discrimination — embodied in law, healthcare and education — being “out” in Bosnia can come with several risks at both the personal and social levels.
Nevertheless, LGBT activists in Bosnia are emphasizing the political perspective and importance of coming out in their country, pointing out the fact that it should be considered a political act rather than a personal issue. Unfortunately, there is a long road ahead, given that the country still struggles with basic post-conflict issues such as poverty, ethnonationalism and corruption. Although Bosnian LGBT people and activists may be making themselves vulnerable to violence by affirming their identity, their bravery is helping the community to become more visible while encouraging others to come out and to join the battle against discrimination.
Names have been changed.

created: March 14th, 2015

author: Chloé Gaillard


text:
Equal for Equal | Balkan Diskurs
Lucinda Klarich-Kahn
March 16th, 2015
Equal for Equal is an international non-profit dedicated to raising awareness around the experiences of women. Lucinda Klarich-Kahn explores their background, aims and future plans.
Equal for Equal is the result of the collaborative efforts of several young participants of the Cultural Innovators Network (CIN). The Goethe Institut came out with CIN in response to the wave of protests that swept the nations surrounding the Mediterranean in 2011. CIN invited twenty young, socially involved people to join the first “learning journey” in 2012. It served as a platform for communication, exchange and learning provided for young, active civil society members from Europe and the MENA region.
The founders of Equal for Equal come from a variety of backgrounds and stories. CIN provided them with a platform to express shared passions and goals. When discussing the nature of sexism in their respective countries, they first recognized the value of transnational women’s narratives. According to Equal for Equal’s website, “”it is not only the obvious stories that show how a society deals with gender equality, it is also ordinary aspects of daily life that can teach us about the state of women’s rights.’ Equal for Equal’ makes everyday stories visible and provides an insight into the different social and political realities of women.” By promoting stories about women’s lives, Equal for Equal transcends the limitations of sexism and xenophobia, and fosters an environment of strength, courage and humanity.
PCRC was fortunate enough to have an interview with one of Equal for Equal’s founders, Rania Rabah of Tunisia. A medical student interested in sexual education and reproductive health, Rabah has taken the initiative to travel to local academic institutions in order to lead workshops on these issues. This endeavor is often made difficult by institutional resistance, but Rabah is committed to fostering an environment of sexual education. Fortunately, she says, medical students have some authority over teachers, and her side project is making successful rounds.
When Rabah and her six cohorts first met at CIN, she knew that group collaboration was going to result in something ambitious, interesting and international. She says that in its initial development, the group knew that Equal for Equal would exist to raise awareness around the relational aspect of gender discrimination in different countries; adding, “What can we do? What’s an effective action to raise awareness?” Working together with women from Europe and the Middle East, mainly through Skype group sessions, they developed the Equal for Equal’s organizational structure.
Equal for Equal’s stories are collected through both a network of social contacts and interested parties. It is possible to ask individuals for submissions, but many stories are submitted voluntarily by women inspired by the nature of the program. There are two journalists on staff that help interview and produce stories from volunteers. The submissions tend to vary in content. Rabah recalls some recent memorable pieces: “Saida from Iran… she’s a lawyer, so she’s able to outline the whole context of women’s situation in Iran. However, there was a girl from Jordan who wrote about personal feelings, daily life. It’s not about a bigger story necessarily, but about being able to relate to her.” According to the website: “Our platform has no restriction on theme, but ultimately we are dedicated to the ceaseless effort of challenging stereotypes and providing viewpoints on society, culture and politics that cannot be found in other media. As such, some of our regular topics include transitional justice, inequality and human rights.”
Rabah loves reading the submissions of women from all over, because she feels she is able to “connect to those women, by those stories, by sharing; the same [infrastructural oppression] is visible almost everywhere. It’s not so important whether you’re from France or Tunisia, and it’s so empowering to know you’re not alone in [facing that oppression]… I gain so much experience from that, and I’m thankful.”
The organization has plans for future growth. Rabah discusses the issue of sustainability and organizational development in regards to promoting gender equality in an international context. Equal for Equal’s staff is currently in conversation about ways to further the cultural networks of anti-oppressive dialogue. In May 2014, a working group cultivated a separate project entitled “Equal in the Streets,” which uses methodology from “Theatre of the Oppressed.” This theatrical technique will be conducted in public spaces and will use the submitted stories from the Equal for Equal website as a basis of storytelling. “In the tradition of Forum Theatre, the so called ‘spect-actors’ get the chance to intervene in the play and add themselves as new characters to find a solution for the shown conflict. The aim is to confront ordinary people, many of whom may just be experiencing the play by chance, with their own experiences of, and perspectives on, gender inequality.” There is also talk about developing a team-led workshop on storytelling that can be held at interested organizations.
Subsequent to this interview, Lucinda Klarich-Kahn submitted her own story. Read it here.

created: March 16th, 2015

author: Lucinda Klarich-Kahn


text:
Mama’s Boys: A Personal Narrative about the Concept of Masculinity in BiH | Balkan Diskurs
Lucinda Klarich-Kahn
March 16th, 2015
“I have some shame to hang out with my girl and to tell my mom not to come in,” reports Niko[1], age 26, who was kind enough to tell me about his close relationship to his mother. The idea of a mama’s boy was first conceptualized by the renowned psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. “Mama’s boy” was …
“I have some shame to hang out with my girl and to tell my mom not to come in,” reports Niko[1], age 26, who was kind enough to tell me about his close relationship to his mother.
The idea of a mama’s boy was first conceptualized by the renowned psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. “Mama’s boy” was not the term he used at the time though — he preferred the term “the Oedipus Complex.” Freud theorized that the male child can only reach masculine subjectivity by distancing himself from his mother and renouncing feminine traits within himself.
Freud’s psychoanalytic theories continue to shape the constructs of masculinity for modern society. Cultural signifiers emerge to distinguish a mama’s boy from a boy who loves his mother. For example, if the boy cannot perform household chores without his mother’s assistance, this is considered circumspect behavior.
“Girlfriend moves in only with marriage… but mama come first,” according to Niko.
Are Bosnian men ultimately doomed to be mama’s boys forever? Will they never complete the path laid out by Freud, and therefore never realize their masculine subjectivity? Are there any real men left in this city, or will we have to make do with boys trapped in the clutches of their overbearing and over dependent mothers?
Fiscal autonomy and distinction of selfhood are vital in the construct of traditional masculinity, which is difficult to achieve, because it is normal for a Bosnian man to live with his parents until marriage.
Amir, age 28, claims that the soaring unemployment rate is the fault of the “lazy youth… we are still angry from the war, now we have corrupt government, and it is still here, our anger with no resolution.”
According to Niko, the main reason a man lives with his parents in Bosnia is due to finances. If masculinity is based on independence, but Bosnian culture dictates that men live with their parents, does this mean that every man in Sarajevo is a mama’s boy?
“For me, a mama’s boy is ‘please mama, buy me this car, this phone…’ I know I am no mama’s boy because I help my family and I love them,” says Niko. Perhaps, in light of Bosnia’s economic situation, manliness cannot be measured by financial development. However, Sarajevo men might be guilty of emotional codependence.
Domineering mothers with impossible standards are the cause of the mama’s boys epidemic. “We [my mother and I] have some kind of close relationship … I can’t wait to get out of that.” Here, Aleks, age 24, articulates his awareness of the codependency his mother has developed, and desires to escape the hyper intimate space in hopes of reclaiming his masculinity. If you are codependent and you know it, are you still a mama’s boy?
Bosnian family structure
All participants reported evidence of a close relationship with their mothers. The same could not be said of their paternal bond. Niko tells me: “Mother is always there for you. Father is always doing man stuff … he is on the job… mother love is always different — she [gave birth to] me, father just made me.”
Bosnian family structure seems to be aligned under a patriarchal power structure. “In Bosnia, father is the main figure in the house… he is responsible for manly chores,” reports Aleks.
While Amir describes his relationship with his father as consisting of demand rather than dialogue, Aleks informs me that Bosnian life “teaches you that man is king of the cave, while the mothers lead from the shadow.” The agency of the female figure is disoriented and displaced by the power of the father.
Although some of the participants reported that they currently do not live with their parents, they make valiant efforts to stay in close contact. “Every day when I finish [work,] I visit my mother,” Aleks tells me.
When asked about girlfriends, the men I interviewed gave me various answers. “The trouble between parents and girlfriends can be difficult if you let it. The most difficult period in [a] man’s life is when he moves from [his] parent’s house to [his] wife’s house,” reports Aleks. After being coddled for so long by the overbearing mother figure, the idea is that the traditional Bosnian man transfers that neediness onto his wife — his mother-replacement. His emasculation is derived from his inability to exist as an autonomous subject, without his mother figure there to support him.
Amir has been confronted with ethnic tensions from within his own family. His grandmother, well immersed in the former Yugoslav social systems, warned him “be careful, and find a girl of your own kind.” He believes Bosnians cling so aggressively to the ethnic divides because the sociopolitical landscape is barren of economic opportunity. “Tradition, masculinity and family are all we have left,” he says in regards to Bosnia’s traditional family structure.
Aleks feels distanced from the traditional paradigms of religious identity: “I’m not a religious guy in the normal sense… I was raised Muslim, but I have my own way of believing.”
The clash of modernism with traditional values leaves the state of Bosnian masculinity in conflict. Amir claims, “most new generations don’t give a shit about traditions… we should step away from traditional rules that make no sense.”
My interviewees referenced traditional Bosnian family structure, but none were actually following the prescribed lifestyle. Amir goes as far as to wonder, “Why do we lose maiden names when women marry? We lose a history when that happens.” There is a desire for a comprehensive history that is simply not aligned with national idealism. “Of course there are some nice [traditions]… but generally they push problems onto following generations,” Amir states simply, “it’s not war anymore.” Here, he is trying to reconcile the histories of ethno-centric cultural discourse with his own understanding of life in Bosnia.
Bosnian modern man: where tradition ends and globalization kicks in
I asked the interviewees if their moms had taught them the skills for independent living? “Google is [a] better teacher than mommy,” responds Amir with a laugh. The Internet provides a safe and ungendered space to gain access to all types of information. With the help of cyberspace, a young man can learn how to clean a stain from a tablecloth or even how to braid hair. The modern Bosnian man is privileged by unfettered access to his varied interests, and is not forced to rely only on his parents to learn how to run his household. “I am not lazy! I am learning that those [feminine chores] are not just women’s part of the job.”
I’m a guy… I’m hanging out with guys… I can see how sleazy men can be… that’s why it’s important to be a gentleman. You must be strong in difficult situations. Nowadays, the girls can easily defend for themselves. The role of the man is not to protect… you have to live your life,
says Aleks.
The modern Bosnian man is allowed to be a gentleman. This challenges traditional narratives of masculinity, in which the strength of men protects women from the harsh realities of the world. In post-conflict regions, the concept of “man as protector” becomes disoriented as the political, economic and social situation falls into disarray.
As his masculinity is not centered on providing or protecting, the modern Bosnian man can develop a respect for the autonomy of women. He is able to explore a mutual exchange of emotional support, not a relationship of maternal codependency. “If she asked me to do girly chores, I would if I needed to… but right now I am avoiding it,” says Aleks.
The realities of the war continue to impact the gender roles of the family as well. It is not an act of emasculation for the son to support his mother after he watched how the war affected his family. “My parents didn’t have time to share the love… due to hardships of war. Now, my mother is forced to work and her anxiety is double. War made that stuff. It’s time to take extra care to spend at home,” says Niko.
All three of the interviewees made it very clear that they are not interested in staying within ethnic lines when dating. As one participant so eloquently put it: “my dick doesn’t care for her name.” Although Amir swears by the existence of Bosnian family structure, he and his friends do not seem to be swayed by it. “[My parents] know that I will listen to my heart… we can do what we want to do.”
The modern Bosnian man does not play by the rules of tradition and is not influenced by the imposition of Freudian gendered realities. Niko says he does not “look for a girl that is like my mother… I look for what I need. It doesn’t matter if she’s like my mother – just as long as she likes normal stuff.”
“My girl will be someone you can compromise with. Everything has to be shared, you know,” says Aleks.
The mama’s boy complex is not due to excessive motherly intimacy, nor the high standards a man develops after a doting mother refuses to let him go. If mama’s boy is the anti-man — a man so emasculated that whatever “maleness” he possesses has been sucked from his body — then I could not classify any of my participants as mama’s boys. They located themselves outside of the paradigms of normal Bosnian family structure, but that is to be expected, as the landscape of Bosnian identity was torn apart by the interethnic war of the ‘90s, and will continue to shift until, as Amir put it, “our anger is resolved.”
Young Bosnian males are living in reference to a traditional Bosnia, but the reality is, the modern Bosnian man lives in an era of globalization and shifting identities. With the lack of economic development, Bosnia is left with little to hold on to. The result is a desperate grasp on the memory of Bosnian identity, entrenched in patriarchal traditions. That is why, in this time of transition, every person I run into on the streets of Sarajevo clings to the term “mama’s boy” — it reasserts traditional notions of gender in the face of a shifting construct.
[1] All names changed to protect anonymity.


text:
Bosnia’s Different Truths | Balkan Diskurs
Tatjana Milovanović
March 17th, 2015
The fighting ended long ago, but it would be a stretch to say the country is at peace.
Today, when you ask people in my country if they live in peace, most will answer that they do. But if I defined a state of peace as freedom and a sense of security, I suspect they would answer negatively. They equate peace with the fact that there is no active fighting, but to be a peaceful nation where there is harmony and accord among people, is another matter.
Bosnia-Herzegovina is a country whose land and people are divided, separated into two entities — the Republika Srpska and the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina — and the independent Brčko district. The political makeup draws heavily from the boundaries imposed by the Dayton Peace Accords of 1995, allowing little freedom for change. Bosnia is a democracy, but the needs of the people are often ignored.
There are different stories and truths that make up a confusing history; children of different ethnicities are taught from different textbooks, each with its own stance on history and fact. This difference in opinion concerning memory and the past is a huge stumbling block to future advancement and social progression.
The war in the region ended almost 20 years ago, and those who were affected by the turmoil have slowly managed to stitch their lives back together. The younger generation, born after the war, would rather forget the past; they did not live through the horror and are quick to dismiss the trauma it left behind. Their judgment and outlook is colored by the experience of their immediate family, which can create a problem when it comes to questions of equality and integration.
After the fall of Yugoslavia and the war, nationality — the sense of who and what you are — became more important. During communism, Yugoslavia was secular; people neither knew nor cared about the ethnic origins of their neighbors. With the explosion of nationalism and war, ethnicity took center stage and still infuses day-to-day life.
It is difficult to step outside the confines of your own name and nationality, and to suffer condemnation as well as subtle prejudice from your colleagues, fellow citizens and peers. In Bosnia, it is hard to deny your origin, and if you choose to be nothing you will always face judgment.
Bosnia is still a developing country, a democratic creation that is slowly coming out of a long transitional period. There is still a great sense of shame attached to talking about personal trauma and people’s actions during the armed conflict from 1992 to 1995.
It is shameful and painful to admit that genocide took place in Srebrenica or to talk about the concentration camps around Prijedor or the Čelebići prison camp. It is considered dishonorable to admit that there were people, members of your ethnic group, who could commit such terrible crimes against innocent civilians. It hurts to admit that these people are a part of you, that you come from the same place. Today it is easier to join the collective blindness and denial and live in a world that recognizes only the facts that appeal.
What happens when you leave the comfort zone? When you step away from ethnically oriented policies and furnished histories, and choose to create a unique truth? Then you realize that Bosnia is a largely divided country and that you could be loved for your principles and attitude in one part of the country but hated in the other.
When a young person in Bosnia steps forward to admit the mistakes of “their” people, to vow not to forget the victims, regardless of their names and ethnicities, then that young person is branded a traitor, threatened with death, and accused of collaborating with “the others” to propagate lies.
From living under communism, in a secular society where we were oblivious to ethnicity, we have moved into an era in which a person’s name is more important than his or her morality. It is an age when people are not divided by their moral compass, their ability to do good or bad, but into “us” and “them”. People and communities are closing in on themselves, unable to look forward with a clear and unprejudiced mind. Among the young there is a resignation to the way things are, a feeling of helplessness to create change.
Bosnia’s development depends not only on its economy, but also on its people’s willingness to accept and acknowledge the past as well as the current dysfunctional political and social climate.
Bosnia’s tourism industry is blossoming. It is a country full of natural beauty and resources. We are beginning to forge a new name for ourselves, not defined by war.
But we must ask: “What do we want our children and grandchildren to remember? What life do we want them to have?” We want to create an atmosphere of harmony and equality — a sustainable peace.

created: March 17th, 2015

author: Tatjana Milovanović


text:
The Art of Peace: Bosnia-Herzegovina | Balkan Diskurs
Clara Fantoni
March 17th, 2015
“While art cannot stop a bullet, it can perhaps prevent one from being fired in the first place.” – William Kelley
While art cannot stop a bullet, it can perhaps prevent one from being fired in the first place. – William Kelley
Twenty years on, Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) is still suffering the effects of a war that shook the very soul of the country. A myriad of factors hinders the forgiveness process in Bosnia, of which the most commonly perceived are the lack of justice regarding war crimes prosecution, the paucity of reparations and the lack of governmental support for victims of rape and those afflicted by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Reconciliation and forgiveness can only be achieved through the implementation of approaches that tackle these issues from all sides, but the opportunities for interaction between conflicting groups are few.
One of the key components for creating a sustainable peace for future generations is through the education of young people. The arts are an integral part of the reconstruction of the social infrastructure in post-conflict zones, offering emotional relief and facilitating the communication necessary for reconciliation.
The arts create a neutral space for dialogue and exploration, addressing issues such as collective memory and victimization. Being able to see a story from a different perspective can be the catalyst that sets the process of forgiveness into motion; the feelings of loss and suffering bringing people together instead of setting them apart. The ability to exert control while using artistic mediums is important for victims lost in the chasm that warfare perpetuates. Something as simple as picking up a pencil and beginning to draw can bring relief from psychological suffering.
The arts are a way to foster understanding, communication, and cross-community dialogue as well as the healing of trauma and PTSD. Art therapy is used to help rape victims, war veterans and other individuals with psychological and emotional traumas. It is a way to speak when the trauma is too terrible to be expressed through words.
The use of the arts as a therapeutic practice originates from Shamanism. Art as a means of expression has existed since the Stone Age and variants of such mediums are still used today; for example, the Native American Navaho Medicine men who use sand painting as a healing tool.
Due to Bosnia’s complex political constitution and subsequent geopolitical divisions, the reparations and care for victims with PTSD and emotional trauma is inadequate and unequal. In the Republika Srpska, a survivor must demonstrate 60% damage to his or her body in order to claim reparations; this does not cover or consider the damage to the psyche.
Fortunately, there are individuals, grassroots and non-governmental organizations (NGOs) who are using art to create change, ensuring that this ripple effect of kindness and creativity has the power to transform. One such example is the Sarajevan clay workshop Stories in Clay, run by artist Tatjana Kovačević as part of a reconciliation program that aims to present different stories to participants, which open up a forum for discussion, understanding, and perspective-taking, thereby strengthening interpersonal relations as well as the connection between mind and body. One such workshop was carried out in June 2014 with female participants ranging from 22-60 years of age.
“Clay is an extraordinary medium through which we can express hidden emotion and thoughts. It has a beautiful ability to transform human suffering into joy, bringing a sense of freedom, meaning of life and hope for the future,” says Kovačević. Clay is an extremely effective way of communication as the tactile sense is one of the first to be developed in a human being and is a child’s way of communicating with its surroundings.
“By working with the clay and using various techniques such as hand-building, hollowing and adding, the participants really get to know the clay, redirecting their own feelings of sadness, anger, and frustration into the medium, all of which are hidden beyond our conscience,” notes Kovačević.
The initiative is a way of bringing together women of different ethnic backgrounds, giving them the opportunity for communication in a neutral setting. The clay absorbs emotion and is a malleable medium, allowing the person to create impressions and forms however they choose. “Through different creative tasks, the participants will discover their identity and be able to express themselves as well as communicate and accept the differences in others,” Kovačević explains.
Another example of the use of art as a means for healing is the Music Room project. Three years ago, Sabina Šabić, program manager at the Sarajevo War Theatre (SARTR), started the Music Room project at the Dom Bjelave orphanage in Sarajevo. Inspired by the “El Sistema” project, an initiative in Venezuela offering creative ways out of poverty, Sabina set out “directly making a change through cultural activity.”
“The state doesn’t take care about educational needs, so I felt an urge to get involved and this is my contribution,” says Šabić. The project helps create a sense of social inclusion as the orphanage children are often ostracized from the community and can be bullied at school. The project brings children of different backgrounds and ethnicities together, educating the future generation so that they will learn to live in a harmonious state of social unity.
Workshops focusing on utilizing music as a tool for togetherness and emotional relief are held in the orphanage gymnasium with children of all ages. The instruments are as diverse as the participants, ranging from the didgeridoo to the conga drums. Šabić admits that the project has experienced its rough patches. “It is hard to know what it takes to elicit a smile,” she says. The organization has also suffered from a lack of funding due to a deficit of government backing, but Šabić was able to acquire private funding with the support of friends and colleagues.
The citizens of Sarajevo donated instruments to the project and respecting and caring for these instruments are things that Šabić insists on teaching the children. Caring for property is a transferable skill that encourages sensitivity in other areas of their lives.
“It is beautiful how a project like this can change you,” says Šabić. “Both my mother and sister are psychologists and they help me deal with the emotional aspect of conducting such projects. I dreamt about children every night for a year and it is difficult not to absorb all their different stories.” Šabić’s seven-year-old daughter, Sara, is also involved, treating the orphanage children like an extended family. “She is always celebrating birthdays,” Šabić smiles. Šabić also stresses the importance of including the children and young adults in the decision-making process: “Their voice counts.” The children help write the songs and assist in rehearsals, giving them a sense of responsibility and pride.
The Music Room has hosted artists and groups such as the Sarajevo Philharmonic Orchestra, as well as putting together and producing their own songs for videos. Recently, Al Jazeera Balkans made a short documentary about the project, titled Heroji svakodnevice – Muzička soba (Heroes of Everyday Life – The Music Room).
“I really wanted to bring together all of the amazing and motivated youth that I had met,” states Ashley Fargnoli, dance and movement therapist who worked in the divided city of Mostar for 2 years. In 2011, Fargnoli oversaw a dance project called 3 Notes, which engaged dancers from Belgrade, Mostar, and Sarajevo. “The goal of the 3 Notes project was simple: to foster relationships between youth that normally would not have an opportunity to meet and enable them to share their experiences with one another,” states Fargnoli.
Fargnoli, who collaborated with the United World College in Mostar, GENESIS Dance Company in Sarajevo and the Pavarotti Centre, says, “Dance is a form of non-verbal communication, which can transcend language barriers and boundaries. Dance is a particularly useful medium in integration work where words are sometimes ineffective in resolving issues. The connections and bonds that can be established through dancing together are extremely powerful, helping to bridge misunderstandings and fostering empathy among diverse groups of people.”
“Drama and art is a part of life that is uncorrupted; in the history of the world there wasn’t one war that was started because of it,” says 24-year-old Law student Marko Rozić, who was involved in another community enterprise, Youth Bridge Global’s (YBG) theatrical productions in Mostar.
Professor Andrew Garrod is the co-founder of YBG, an NGO that “uses drama and art to bridge cultural divides, connect youth across cultures and provide educational opportunities.”
“I often find that, in Mostar, children from one side of the Neretva River have never been to the other side,” says Professor Garrod. “Many of them seem to accept the fact that they are taught in classrooms devoid of other ethnicities as a perfectly reasonable way for education to be conducted. I want to shake up these assumptions with my plays, bring kids together so that they can artistically produce something wonderful in which ethnicity has no role.”
Mostar is still very ethnically divided, mostly between Bosnian Muslims and Bosnian Croats. The city saw heavy fighting during the war and the ancient Stari Most Bridge, which to many represented the very soul of the city, was destroyed by Croatian forces in November 1993. The reconciliation process is slow. Children are taught under the so-called “two school under one roof” system, which was implemented to bring children of different ethnic backgrounds together. Ironically, these schools have separate entrances, schedules, and curriculums that separate the children according to ethnicity, making it hard for them to interact socially.
In the summer of 2006, YBG performed Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet using a Muslim Romeo and a Croat Juliet. This play was followed by the performance of The Tempest (2011) and As you like It (2012).
“Selecting complex Shakespearean plays allows for detailed analysis of classic literature as well as face-to-face and one-on-one conversations between members of the cast. My aim is to raise the aspirations of the actors and to give them confidence in their voice, in their bodies, and to enhance their appreciation for Shakespeare’s dramatic art,” says Professor Garrod.
Marko Rozić has long since been involved with YBG’s projects. Rozić has participated both as an actor and a production assistant: “The project was a refreshment for us. It was a project that Mostar needed.”
When asked about the ways that dramatic art can bring diverse people together, Rozić stated, “It is fun, and through workshops, we can connect pretty fast. Drinking coffee every day and sharing some special moments with those people created a ‘wall’ around us and we had a world for ourselves — without the borders and limitations we usually face.”
The project has altered Rozić’s outlook and he credits Professor Garrod for “forming these new lives.” The cast was made up of locals and internationals, exposing the youths to a broader perspective. “It really enriches you when you talk to people that come from America and the UK. It makes you realize what life could be like in Bosnia, then you start to question things and realize that you want to help the community.”
“When people are sick of war stories and manipulative politicians, they can turn to creativity. We used Shakespeare’s timeless subjects to send messages of love and absolution. We didn’t just send a message to the audience; we spread it among the cast,” Rozić said.
The attainment of peace is a complex journey and one could argue that it is never fully achieved. What society needs is people along the way who can make this journey easier — to bring joy and faith to everyday life — in the hope that by changing the small things, it will affect those which are out of our control. Reconciliation and forgiveness need approaches from all sides, and community projects such as art, music and drama workshops are a vital part of the healing process.

author: Clara Fantoni


text:
Amna: Guardian of the Past and Visionary of the Future | Balkan Diskurs
Lejla Bečar
March 19th, 2015
“It is a tradition to create something out of something else, that is why the base of my work is a Bosnian sheet. It is evidence that our ancestors recycled, [a] hundred years ago”
In the summer of 2003, I met Alisa on a basketball court. She was the best player in the team I had just joined, and during the first practice, we figured out that we lived in the same neighborhood in Visoko. As we grew to be close friends, I learned that Alisa is talented not only on the basketball court, but also in the special Bosnian craft of weaving, which she learned from her mother. Today, Alisa weaves woolen sheets and raw silk, which her mother uses to produce clothing they sell in their store.
Their workshop in Visoko is small, but it has a special family warmth to it, full of love and respect. There are green walls with big windows that let in light which plays joyfully with the shadows. There are professional machines for weaving and sewing, a big shelf full of colorful cotton balls and threads, more shelves with finished products, and dress forms draped with their creations. For me, this workshop represents a small magical world with the personal stamp of Bosnian women’s innovation, made of pride and hard work.
I often come to the workshop to watch Amna, Alisa’s mother, while she draws new models, sews, knits or crochets. Each time she greets me with a smile and energetically presents her newest creation, testing my reaction and carefully listening to my comments. While I watch her hands move with incredible ease, I get the feeling she has been doing this since she was a child. But her career actually began a little more than 20 years ago, out of necessity and as a result of events brought on by war.
When the fighting broke out in Bosnia-Herzegovina in the spring of 1992, the Mujkanović family moved to Visoko from their home town of Derventa. While her husband was in the hospital in Croatia, Amna, who at the time had two small children, decided there was no time for fear and desperation. She bought her first cotton ball and started knitting sweaters, which she later sold in a local shop.
Years went by, and her palette of products was expanding: from mobile phone and tablet cases to bags, dresses, clothes, curtains, jewelry, scarfs, hats, belts and colorful Bosnian rugs. Whatever you can imagine, Amna can make, and you will be pleasantly surprised by the quality and beauty of her work. All of her products are unique and so perfected that they could be worn on fashion runways throughout the world.
“The idea of developing my own business was born when I was a refugee in Germany, where we went after a few years as refugees in Croatia. I already knew I wouldn’t be able to return to Derventa and work as a clerk in a municipality office, a job I had before the war. I imagined that this [weaving business] would be my job, which I would be able to do from home, contribute to the house budget and have enough time to be a mother and a housewife,” Amna tells Balkan Diskurs.
She explains that she used her residence in Germany to buy machines needed for production, that the family thought about staying in Germany or maybe moving somewhere else, but all those ideas disappeared once she saw her parents for the first time after the war.
“A sense of duty towards my family, who spent the war in a concentration camp, was decisive. I think people in Bosnia forgot about the war quickly and entered the twenty-first century, a century for which there is still no basis here.”
“I have never forgotten about the war because that is the period when I created my own system of values in life. From when I arrived in Visoko to the founding of the company, I made curtains, flags, did interior design, knitted for Amra Bečo’s collections and decorated Bosnian gourds for interior embellishment. I founded my company with help of my cousin, Erdal Medenčević, a man who believed in my vision,” Amna adds.
She never asked for help from the government, but she did collaborate with the NGO sector. However, that collaboration was soon terminated and caused a rift she feels to this day.
She explains that she was bothered the most by how the NGOs presented the creations as coming from “our poor women” and helped to build the generally accepted attitude that refugees and victims are people who want to get something without effort and work.
“The style of the presentation and inconsistency of their work, and the lack of effort from the NGOs to build something new or long-term made me stray away from such collaboration,” Amna says.
She emphasizes that one great quality Bosnian women possess is knowledge and readiness for improvisation. “It is a tradition to create something out of something else, that is why the base of my work is a Bosnian sheet. It is evidence that our ancestors recycled, [a] hundred years ago.”
She adds that she is inspired by the fact that every piece of clothing, regardless of its age and wear, can be used for the creation of something new and modern.
She learned the basics of her work from her mother. “I remember my mother sewing until dawn. I was young then, I did not care about it much, but my mother insisted that I learned, and I am grateful to her for that [because] she transferred invaluable knowledge to me.”
She says she is happy and content, but also that she works all the time on improving her knowledge, skills and production technique. “I am not a fashion designer by profession, but I see potential in the Bosnian tradition that is not used enough. The greatest mistake in Bosnia is a lack of innovation in creating a Bosnian brand,” says Amna.
For the new 2015 collection, which she is currently working on, Amna chose natural raw wool as the basis, because that is the only kind of wool coming from Bosnia – all others are imports.
“For me, a middle-aged woman, this is more than a business. I make my products with a lot of love and that does not allow me to be commercial enough for success in Bosnia. My goal is to create a foundation and a brand on which my daughter can build a business, in some better circumstances, which will, I hope, come to Bosnia,” Amna concludes.
Her company “GT Handmade-Remake” that emits positive energy, and Amna has a look that radiates strength, dignity, and wisdom. It is a look that tells you she will not compromise and that giving up is not an option.
For me, Amna is an inspiring Bosnian businesswoman, a creator with a vision, a guardian of the past, an owner of the future, and a leader for her daughter. In short, she a woman for all times.

created: March 19th, 2015

author: Lejla Bečar


text:
The Benefits of Volunteerism for the Youth of Bosnia-Herzegovina | Balkan Diskurs
Lejla Krkic
March 20th, 2015
Even though there are not a large number of students volunteering in Bosnia-Herzegovina, those who do find that they gain significant professional experience. This experience can give students a professional edge in a country that suffers from the region’s highest rate of unemployment.
The definition of “volunteering” implies work, effort and commitment without being paid. The current economic situation in Bosnia, with high unemployment and low growth, may be one factor that discourages young people from volunteering, as their lack of financial resources places greater importance on paid positions. Furthermore, a lack of information and institutional support with regard to these opportunities are additional factors that contribute to Bosnia’s underdeveloped culture of volunteerism.
“One of the biggest problems is actually the system itself. The economic situation together with the high rate of unemployment — especially youth unemployment — contributes to the fact that people are searching for any kind of paid work in order to survive everyday life,” says Lejla Rašić, long-term volunteer and current employee of Via Media Company in Sarajevo.
Unemployment among young people in Bosnia is the highest in the region. According to the World Bank’s Regular Economic Report for South East Europe countries published in 2013, 58% of 15 to 24-year-olds are unemployed.
“The unemployment rate is troubling, because many young people are leaving the country in search of work, [with] most going to Europe. Bosnia is at the very top of the world list of unemployment,” explains Abebe Adugna, chief economist of the World Bank in Bosnia, Kosovo and Albania.
Through volunteerism, young people have the opportunity to learn new skills relevant to the workplace, and not only contribute their own ideas, but gain the practical expertise necessary in order to implement them. Moreover, it provides direct access to working professionals and future contacts, therefore providing brighter prospects for attaining paid employment in the future.
“Actually my first professional full time job happened because of my volunteer projects. I was working in a marketing team for one project, where I got in contact with a research company and several months after the project they contacted me themselves to ask me to work for them,” saysNina Marković, former long-term volunteer and a current Brand Manager in Sarajevo.
Marković goes on to explain how her volunteering experience enabled her to gain the particular skills and knowledge to build a resume with the potential to stand out from the crowd.
“Volunteering gave me firsthand practical knowledge; I signed my first contract, had my first job interview, planned projects and was part of a team in addition to leading one. I did not have the chance to experience all of those things in my formal education. Our surroundings do not allow us to gain a lot of practical knowledge after finishing our studies, so volunteering is one of the easiest steps we can take and will make us more competitive in the labor market.”
Asja Kratović, a long-term volunteer currently working for the National Democratic Institute in Bosnia, explains how volunteerism provides individuals with more opportunities for personal improvement, whilst making them more capable and efficient.
“Volunteering was one of the main reasons I got numerous scholarships and fellowships for different summer schools, programs, trainings, master’s studies, my first job and all other jobs that followed. Volunteering provided me with a free educational and professional trip throughout Europe and the US. If I could go back and volunteer even more then I would, because there is no book that can teach you the things that you learn through hands-on experience.”
Indeed, confident and capable applicants are more likely to be successful in securing jobs. Kratović further illustrates how, through volunteering, people develop communication and leadership skills, expand their social networks and become more desirable applicants for future jobs.
“In my own experience volunteering was something that gave me more credibility for every job to which I applied. Every employer wants to know that [their] employees are dedicated to work, and what better way to prove this than to actually work for free for a certain period of time. This will show them that you are not only driven by money, but that you believe in the mission and vision of this company and will give the best of yourself to become a valuable member of their team.”
It is important to emphasize that Bosnia’s cultural lack of volunteerism is due not only to insufficient support from institutions, but also to unawareness of the positive effects of volunteering on the part of students. Academic institutions in particular are not providing enough information to potential volunteers, nor are they emphasizing the importance of volunteering with regard to the cultural benefits.
“When I was a high school student, I knew very little about volunteering opportunities or about academic and other exchange opportunities available for youth my age. I wasn’t even aware of the various scholarships and funding opportunities that are open for youth to study at the world’s most prestigious universities – something I now deeply regret not knowing,” says Ilma Ibrišević, a long-term volunteer in AIESEC, who is currently working in the national board of AIESEC in the United Kingdom.
Volunteerism not only benefits those seeking hands-on experience but also the host institutions, as they can then employ volunteers who have gained the specific skills required by their institution, through their voluntary experience.
Post-Conflict Research Center (PCRC) is a Sarajevo-based NGO, which throughout last year alone had over 30 young interns from around the world undertaking voluntary work with them. “Since 2011, when the center was founded, we have received over 200 applications for internships, and we continue to receive new ones every day. These young people come from various countries within Europe and around the world, but there [is] a considerable number of them from Bosnia. Volunteers at our center are an amazing resource, they provide exceptional help in our work and in the improvement of our projects,” says Velma Šarić, Executive Director of PCRC.
Volunteerism can therefore enable individuals to display an ability to work successfully within a team, provide practical experience of situations requiring critical and analytical thinking, show proven flexibility and organizational skills and foster potential for innovation. These attributes may prove beneficial to applicants looking to secure paid employment in a high unemployment job market, whilst providing host institutions with passionate, dedicated individuals that can enhance their work in many different ways. Further developing and encouraging a culture of volunteerism in Bosnia therefore appears to be a win-win situation.

created: March 20th, 2015

author: Lejla Krkic


text:
We Reduced International Women’s Day to a Carnation | Balkan Diskurs
Mladen Lakić
March 20th, 2015
If women and men were equal in Bosnia-Herzegovina you would not be reading this interview
To discuss what the 8th of March represents, the role of women, and their status on days they are not given carnations, Balkan Diskurs spoke to Zlatiborka Popov-Momčinović, PhD. She earned her doctorate in 2013 from the Faculty of Philosophy at the University of Novi Sad and has since published more than 40 scientific papers.
“International Women’s Day was a leftist holiday that was supposed to serve as a symbolic memory of the long and terrible battle, especially for female workers, who worked in inhumane conditions in the capitalist system,” Popov-Momčinović says at the beginning of our interview. She added that in a socialist society, the starting point of equality was the assumption that women alongside with men would help to build a unified, socialist, classless society.
“This day aims at integrating all that has been done in the past and still needs to be done in the constant battle for women’s rights,” she emphasizes.
“Words such as love and respect are most commonly used on this day. Love and respect are, however, usually minimized to small acts of kindness. It is evident that the 8th of March has lost its revolutionary spirit and is celebrated in an empty ritualistic way. Previously, this day was seen as revolutionary; it was celebrating the role of women in building new societies. Today it is just a day that makes men feel obliged to buy women flowers, it became a consumerist holiday,” Popov-Momčinović points out.
On International Women’s Day, phrases such as “the weaker sex” or “the more beautiful half” are commonly seen and used. “This automatically implies that women are marginalized and consequently should be given something,” she says.
“It is capitalist commercialization at its best. Plane tickets for the 8th of March are sold out.”
In addition, Popov-Momčinović says that “the increased promotion of starlets in the media clearly reflects the status of women in our society. Reducing women to sexual objects solely seems to show that this is the only way for women to achieve success.”
She adds that the two most commonly promoted features of women are their supposed propensity for receiving gifts and their ability to build an image based on looks alone.
“Female politicians and researchers are usually neglected in the media just as if they are not supposed to be there in the first place,” explains Popov-Momčinović.
Most important, however, is for feminists to emphasize the importance of the 8th of March. Many organizations were established on this day, like Crvena (Red), a Bosnian cultural organization whose name and work ethic point to its strategy of fighting for equality and women empowerment.
“Ever since the 1960s, it was very important for feminists all around [the] world to become protectors of the symbolism of the 8th of March and all the different needs women have,” concludes Popov-Momčinović at the end of our interview.

author: Mladen Lakić