Sarajevo, Bosnia, Sunday June 15th

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After breakfast we set off to do the day walk of the old town. We started with the History Museum, which we reached after a long and fascinating walk past many very decorative buildings, some of which had statues and faces on them, as well as colour contrasts and stonework. Many of the buildings have been restored, but there are still some, damaged in the war, that are boarded up awaiting repairs, or which still operate despite war damage. Bullet holes riddle many facades. We were intrigued as to how a community recovers and moves on, and not clear on how the war came about.

The ground floor of the History Museum presented a chronological history of Bosnia until the present day, with accompanying information sheets in English. We read carefully but still had some confusion because the terms used were unfamiliar to us in the sense that we don’t know what the implications are. An example is ‘annexed’ – what does that mean for the countries involved? Nevertheless, the following is a bit of a summary, as I understood the information.

Bosnia was a medieval state in the 11^th and 12^th centuries, and the territory grew under the reign of Turko 1 who ruled from 1353 – 1391. The Ottomans arrived in 1463, beheading the last Bosnian king and made Bosnia a ‘Unit’ of the Ottoman Empire, but maintaining the Bosnian territorial borders. Nationalist fuelled battles, led by rebels, spread across the country, with the result that Ottoman rule crumbled. The next bit is vague for us because between 1875 and 1878 there was fighting with Austria/Hungary, and at the Berlin Congress in 1878 Bosnia and Herzegovina entered the Austro-Hungarian monarchy. Not willingly though, for there were many resistance battles until finally the Austro-Hungarians took over. A national constitution was developed in 1910, and political parties and a localised government were formed. It was in Sarajevo that Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie, were assassinated by a Serbian nationalist on June 28^th 1914, which triggered World War I.

After WWI, the Austro-Hungarian monarchy was dismantled and Bosnia and Herzegovina became members of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenians and in 1929, members of the State of South Slavs Kingdom of Yugoslavia. There were attempts to break down territorial integrity but they were not successful. In WWII Bosnia and Herzegovina were a bit like pawns used to suit different political and military goals, with a national liberation movement led by Josip Broz Tito, forming the State Antifascist Liberation Council. There were demonstrations throughout the country with battles with partisans. In 1943 Great Britain, the Soviet Union and the USA decided to help the partisans in Yugoslavia. In 1945 Bosnian statehood was reaffirmed within the Federation of Yugoslavia, and continued until the collapse of the Berlin wall. During that time there was fifty years of reconstruction from the massive war damage to infrastructure, buildings and the economy under a socialist system. The first post war multi-party parliamentary elections were held on November 18^th 1990. The legal fight for international recognition of Bosnia and Herzegovina as an independent state began. This was finally given on 6^th April 1992 and resulted in the war, started by Serbia, whose aim was to divide Bosnia and Herzegovina and to join them to Serbia and Croatia. This is difficult to understand, but is further complicated by the fact that people from all the ethnic groups live in Bosnia, and there were concerns for other groups if independence was achieved. A plebiscite of Serbians living in Bosnia overwhelmingly supported staying with Serbia, while a vote, in which only 64.3% of eligible voters voted, resulted in a 99.44% result for support for being an independent nation. Further complications arose from Serbia being an Orthodox Christian country and Bosnia being a Muslim country, but with many people of other religions living there. The war was brutal, with the Serbians ignoring United Nations troops protecting civilians, striking industries and vital services and creating terror for civilians in villages and cities. Sarajevo was held in a state of siege. The war finished, after the intervention of NATO with bombing of the Serbians, and the Dayton peace agreement was signed on the 21^st of November, 1995. 7000 Bosnians were killed, many more were wounded, with some being permanently maimed, and tens of thousand were forced to flee the country. Bosnia and Herzegovina was recognised as an independent and sovereign state with two entities. Some Serbian war criminals have been tried, including President Milosovic, who died before his trial was completed. Others, such as General Mladic, have ‘disappeared’ and have not been brought to justice.

The next room was devoted to images from the US Holocaust museum, showing the treatment of Gipsies from 1930 until the end of WWII. Stark and confronting, they showed labour camps, mass graves, round-ups for transportation, concentration camps and a pile of clothing salvaged from the dead. Saddest of all was a ring of Gipsy children in a concentration camp, thin and half clothed, dancing in a ring as they snatched a brief moment of the joy of childhood. Gypsies are not generally well regarded and have had a low place in the pecking order in the countries we have been in so far – poor jobs (if any) and an earned reputation for stealing and leaving mess behind. They were one of the groups on the Nazi target list for extermination.

Upstairs the sombre mood deepened as we immersed ourselves in an exhibition called ‘Surrounded Sarajevo’, which aimed not to make judgements but to present a true witness of the time and events behind Sarajevo’s ‘closed doors’, with the authentic exhibits becoming documents of the times. There was information in English but of course we could not read the newspaper articles and other documents. There were photos of huge peace rallies, and of people attending crouching down as snipers fired on them. The first victims fell on the 6^th of April on the Urbanja Bridge. On the 15^th of April the Bosnia and Herzegovina army formed from those who were preventing the entry of enemy guns into the city. Uniforms were cobbled together and with no arms, makeshift guns were made from any available materials and collected, but the supply was meagre. A photo from spring 1994 showed the French Peace Keeping Force protecting people crossing an intersection, mothers with children, old people, anyone, crouching low and waiting for the word to hurry across. There were countless photos of the destruction of factories and industries, the water, power, transport and communications systems and of public and heritage buildings. One showed the post office building with fire pouring from its windows, others showed destroyed residential areas and many the makeshift graves where the dead were buried.

The people could have been any of us and the times were only thirteen years ago. It was a very emotional experience to continue past the detailed exhibits of the children and teacher killed when their school was targeted, to see the photos of the remains after the bombing of a busy market place, one we had walked past on our way here, and to realise that the Sarajevans lived with death daily under a strategy of constant shelling, missiles and sniper fire. Keith had heard a terrible story of a journalist who wanted to write an article about snipers. A man had assisted the journalist, answering questions and pointing out spots that could be used. He invited the journalist to see one of the sniping sites, in a clock tower, and while up there, pointed to two people in Pigeon Square below.

“Which one would you like me to kill?” he asked the appalled journalist, who refused to nominate a person to die. With no individual picked out, he shot both for good measure.

It is hard to comprehend a mentality or a one-eyed nationalism that could produce such cold-blooded and ruthless killers, but time and time again it happens. The photos that showed children, old people and a young cyclist sprawled beside his bike on the road, were regular victims. Page after page of newspapers carried obituaries of ordinary people who should have had lives to live. 1620 children were killed and over 15,000 wounded. There was the sled that six children had been playing on when they were shot. Excerpts from the diary of a thirteen year old spoke of being sent home from school, which was too dangerous to be at, only to suffer boredom at home, forbidden to go outside. Collecting water had been a life threatening activity, her neighbourhood was constantly shelled and she longed for the opportunity to study.

The rest of the display showed the ways that people had coped, receiving some humanitarian aid and making do with whatever they could make or grow otherwise. Most of the trees in the parks became fuel and every plot of land or pot of dirt, a food producing garden. Teachers visited small groups of children in their home buildings in an attempt to maintain some basic literacy and numeracy learning. Theatrical productions went ahead, including one of the musical ‘Hair’. A photo showed a tunnel out of the town that had allowed communication with the outside world and the collection of some supplies and some people were able to use it to leave Sarajevo. There were some trophies awarded to the winners in the ‘war sports’ an activity to keep morale up. A funny A-Z of war time survival in English had T for tomatoes and described people taking as much care of their plants as of their children. Finally, after NATO intervention, there was a decision rescinding the state of war on 22^nd of December, 1995.

Moved as we were at Gallipoli, at least there it was between soldiers. Here it was against all people and not even the baby with the amputated leg had been safe. We just sat and thought and talked, taking some time before we could move on with the rest of the day.

While we sat, we watched families and young people roller skating and riding bikes along beside the river. I automatically wondered what their ages were, and what experiences lie in their minds and hearts, and how they could let go of the past enough to make a future.

Finally we set again on the walking tour, having taken until two o’clock to visit the first stop. There were 26 more to go! Needless to say, we skipped some or simply passed them, taking a look from the outside. We were more conscious than ever of war damage and also of the beauty of this city and the surrounding hills. We crossed the river on Eiffel’s bridge, not quite in the same category as his tower in Paris, but definitely along the same lines.

We stopped to look at all the photos in an international exhibition on the bridge, ‘Tales From a Globalising World’. Ten photographers had been commissioned to illustrate aspects of globalisation from five continents. The photos highlighted the gap between the haves and have nots and the developmental gap between countries. They also presented those gaps within the context of a single nation. The subjects were interesting and thought provoking and the technical skills of the ten photographers had been used to create works of art.

More sites were glimpsed with the Synod Orthodox Church standing out as a magnificent building. It was closed, so we strolled into the next door park to check out the market stalls. It seemed like a ‘snake oil’ market, with no crafts or foods, other than those that cure a hundred ailments or restore your youth. Some men were intently watching others move giant chess pieces in a do or die chess game. Sticks were being pointed to indicate moves by the coaches and the players were under pressure. Hopefully some of the pills and potions on sale were for restoring blood pressure to normal.

There was an interesting sculpture of a naked man in a globe, with an inscription that said in Italian and Bosnian ‘The world is built by multi-cultural man.’

The place of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand was just around the corner from the main road beside the river, near the arched Latin Bridge.

We were looking at the photos on display on the walls of the museum that now stands there when a young man came over and checked that we knew the importance of this spot. He was so intense that it could have been recent history he was discussing, and in fact he did tie the fact of one shot starting a war to the recent war. The museum was closed but we hoped to visit it the next day.

Crossing the river again, with fine drizzle falling, we looked at the reconstructed music pavilion in the park; a tall dark wood building with restaurants flaring out at its base.

Up the hill from there a woman posted a coin through the wire windows of each of the seven brothers in the burial chamber and then gave one to a beggar sitting on the ground where an eighth window would have been. We never found out who the brothers had been but the posting of coins is listed for tourists as a way of making a wish. Back near the river we visited the Emperor’s Mosque and couldn’t work out which Emperor it meant. Suleyman the Magnificent had ordered it to be built in 1566 when the Ottomans held sway and he was a sultan, not an emperor.

St Anthony’s Church was up a few streets; an impressive complex that required climbing steps up to a landing to visit. Inside it was large, simple and gallery like, with spectacular and vivid modern stain glass windows down the sides and at the front. In one striking window Jesus was shown in agony on the cross, his body elongated and his head arched back. Alcoves featured deep relief sculptures in wood, other modern religious art works in mosaic and metal, and large paintings. Although there was a gallery aspect to this church, the works contributed to a unity of intent and to the feeling of being in a holy place.

We raced through the rain, zipped back across the river on yet another bridge, but we couldn’t resist the beautiful city hall, built in the early 20^th century, but designed by an architect, Alexandro Wittek, who the City of Sarajevo had sent to Cairo to study Islamic architecture and arts. His study was not wasted, with the façade decorated with stonework and arches reminiscent of many mosques. It must have been truly grand for the opening of parliament in 1910 and when Franz Ferdinand and Sophie attended a reception there in 1914, the last before their death. Now it has boarded up windows and some sections show fire damage. Other parts were perfect and it is a building of such uniqueness, grandeur and charm that I hope it is restored.

We decided to have dinner out but it wasn’t easy – the pizza shop was closed and every other restaurant we tried could not cater for vegetarians. At our last chance the waiter came up with mixed vegetables and rice, so we were happy and stayed to have a rare dessert of baked apple for me and pancakes with chocolate, jam and cream for Keith. Climbing up the hill, we returned home to our very comfortable hostel.

Below are scenes from the streets of Sarajevo demonstrating how beautiful the architecture is and the daily reminders of a recent and brutal war.