Bosnia (with a touch of Middle Earth): An amazing country with lessons tragically earned.

Beautiful country, imperfect past.  Onward to a better future!

We play so many roles throughout our lives.  In Bosnia in the early 1990s, there were many people who were compelled to do unthinkable things to each other, to take on roles that didn't appear in their nightmares.  In a certain sense, the context excuses their actions, or at least makes comprehensible, because of similar things done to them in, confirming a cycle of destruction and exclusion.  For those who are commanded to perpetrate horrific crimes, to kill/maim/mutilate/rape/etc family, friends, neighbors, and strangers, it is hard to imagine a way back into society.

I think about J.R.R. Tolkein’s orcs, which were elves (being the epitome of his world’s wisdom and goodness and light) who were corrupted and distorted into orcs, nearly unstoppable creatures of darkness and gore.  Tolkein’s universe does draw much clearer lines between good and evil than exists in our world, but it makes me wonder about how deeply into someone’s humanity corruption can truly reach.  Is it possible for someone, barring mental irregularities, to be twisted beyond any form of redemption?  Then it gets into the bigger philosophical questions of whether people are good or bad, or if it’s circumstantial, or and what is actually our innate nature.

But, in our world, in Bosnia and Herzegovina, one of the big questions which stands out to me is the significance of espoused identity.  What is identity, group or individual, based on?  The region of Bosnia and Herzegovina has a history lasting centuries, bringing an ongoing interplay of cultural influences which created a mixed population, wherein sometimes one side superceded the other, but never completely.  It is hard to see the actual history now, because evidence indicates that over the course of the 20th century, the previous half-millenium was revised to support a stronger narrative of injustice and discrimination than actually occurred.

Now, about a quarter century after their war, the issues are still identity.  On top of the conflated concepts of Serb/Orthodox, Croat/Catholic, and Bosniak/Muslim, there are the more recently acquired titles of “aggressor,” “perpetrator,” “victim,” “avenger,” “survivor,” and “witness.”  Roles in today’s Bosnia and Herzegovina combine the heritage-based identity with factors from the role played in the conflict, constructing a concept which seems to be more “not them” than “this is me.”  A further complication seems to be the gap between an outside view of one’s identity and one’s own perception of self.  Today I wonder “who is Bosnian?” and “what does it mean to be Bosnian, if anything?”

A mosque's fountain in Mostar

Switching gears, walking around Sarajevo, Mostar, and Banja Luka has been fascinating.  The collision between the Eastern and Western influences is set in the architecture, and literally written in paving stones dividing the sections of Old Town Sarajevo- Bascarsija.  The food here is delicious, and ice cream/gelato (including a butter-based Egyptian recipe which I have yet to track down) is everywhere.  Most people seem to have a basic working knowledge of English, and there are a lot of tourists; most seem to be from other parts of Europe.  There is hardly a pause in the street life when the prayers start in the mosques, and the fountains (provided for the use of the community by the mosques) seem freely used by everybody.
 

Sarajevo Rose, bottom right, by the house on the outside of the Sarajevo Seige Tunnel

I’ve been wanting to see the Sarajevo Roses for probably almost 20 years now, and I know that many have been removed.  Now that I’ve seen some, I don’t quite know how I feel about them.  On the one hand, they are a gesture of turning something terrifying into art, redirecting their focus and reclaiming the past and its imagery, but on the other hand, is it actually helpful to retain these reminders, which look more like blood spatters rather than roses, of the violence which is present in the residents’ minds?  The buildings and streets still carry the scars from the mortar shells and bullets, even as they stand next to the shiny new glass shopping centers.  It seems a tall order for the residents to heal when they cannot avoid even the external reminders of what happened.  By now there are adults who were born after the war technically ended, but they too have always lived in a reality scarred by internal division.  How can trust be cultivated in such a situation?

A temporary exhibit on the massacre at Srebrenica was very moving, with photography and videos which showed so much of what the atmosphere was like in the middle of it.  There were 2 things that really stick in my mind from this exhibit.  The first, is how much the kids and teens in the footage laughed and sang, and found joy where they could.  The other were the accounts of the really depraved and incomprehensible acts committed.  It makes me wonder if orcs are among us.

While there are way too many stories about the horrible things that people did during the war, including the siege of Sarajevo, concentration camps around the country, the massacres in Srebrenica and other towns, during the same periods, there was also La Benevolencija (I was not expecting Spanish in Bosnia!) in Sarajevo, there were the soldiers and others digging and smuggling supplies through the tunnel under the airport, and the family and friends finding ways to live and persevere in the most terrifying situations.  In a conversation in the van, one of my classmates and I were talking about how people can laugh when basically everything is horrible, and perhaps it is because there are essentially 2 options- to laugh or to cry, and laughter brings more strength and energy for the future.


The idyllic countryside of Bosnia and Herzegovina has as much history and character as its population.  Driving between cities brought the sobering realization that it wasn’t all that long ago that the lovely wooded hillsides and statuesque mountains concealed snipers and other armed threats.  That dose of perspective made the even these drives emotionally complex instead of simply enjoyable.

 Here in the United States, those of us not in or closely connected to the military have the very great privilege of wars being a long time ago and/or very far away.  There have been attacks, but we have no real expectation of ourselves or immediate neighbors being killed while trying to fetch water.  We absolutely have problems here, in police violence, fear, mistrust, in the United States, but thankfully, that level of living in fear is still only in the inflammatory speeches of some prominent figures.  I read once that terrorism is successful when it compels the target to change in fear.  If this is so, it does seem to be prevailing.

Majestic Mountains

However, I do have hope.  Alma, Father Ivo, Ambassador Finci, Kristina Seslija, Kemal Pervanic and others are actively engaged against fear and divisiveness, working towards building a higher identity and meaning for Bosnia/Bosnian.  They have their challenges and regrets, their losses, but they are leaders by living their lives openly, by sharing their ideals, and by actively showing others that their peace-ward path is viable, practical, open, and free.  We also have brilliant people in the United States, who are working to guide our course into strength instead of fear.


Islamaphobia is still much too common, but if the Islamaphobic Americans could see what life is like in Sarajevo.  Objectively speaking, in the current perceptions on what Islam does in today’s world, it seem that the Bosniam Muslims would be ready for support from whomever, but ISIS/Daesh’s worldview just seems irreconcilable with the way Islam is practiced and lived in Bosnia, and I am grateful to have seen their example and know that it is strong.  There are still unofficial-but-obeyed rules on who lives where, but the mosques’ fountains are free and open, and the muzzein’s evening call to prayer is magical.  It reminded me of where I lived in Cincinnati, in a particularly Catholic part of town, where at whatever time in the evening, the air would be filled with the ringing of bells.  Religious conviction comes in many forms. 

A puppy we met

A country is its people.
To wrap up, here are brief profiles and reflections on some of the individuals we met in Bosnia.  They come from a variety of backgrounds, different “sides” of the conflict, but who all lived through the war.  Each of them is working in their own way to support the recovery.  They hold different national identities, each with their own personal experiences, and share the common goal of a peaceful future for a Bosnia composed of diverse Bosnians.

Alma: Alma was our Mostarian tourguide who traveled with us for the majority of our time in country.  She is very familiar with the long and short history of the country, and although her English was slightly confused on rare occasions, she communicated with us very well.  Her instincts and familiarity with local customs and behavior, and her willingness to share her observations with us outsiders were invaluable in interpreting and processing some of the interviews and interactions that we had with locals.  Living in Mostar, a divided city, she knows the tensions which predated and outlasted the war, and knows the deep personal challenges faced by her compatriots concerning moving forward, forgiveness, and healing.

Yazmin: Alma’s son Yaz is the proprietor of a coffeehouse in Mostar, as well as Alma’s substitute tourguide, as well as historical reinactor.  He and some friends created a living exhibit of the house of a high judge from 16th century (or so).  In talking with their group after, it was interesting to hear about their process of creating the scenario and characters.  Most controversial was the monologue by the lady of the house, in which the actress implicitly defended the traditional Muslim position of women in society, and they were clear in the Q&A that it was important to them to be true to historical accuracy.  Islam now in Bosnia is interesting; and has been.  I didn’t realize that they (although many people apparently under the label consider themselves atheist), were the majority of the population in modern Bosnia. 
(Side note: Among the many things I learned, and the paradigm-shifting revelations, I found out that my name is a popular boy’s name there.)

Father Ivo: Father Ivo is a remarkable leader.  Even during the war, in hot engagements, he would try to intervene on behalf of peace and security.  He lost much over the years, but retains his love and hope for future possibilities.  He lives by principles and a level of integrity which transcend specific religious codes, and encourages others to live beyond the bounds of their labels as well.  His Pontanima Choir is well represented in the name, which looks like Soul Bridge in Latin.  I love the imagery of building bridges; there are thousands of styles and types, but they serve the purpose of making connections.

Ambassador Finci: Ambassador Finci is another leader who crosses religious lines in his work to help Bosnia.  His work with La Benevolencija to create and operate the free pharmacy during the war is nothing short of amazing, and instances such as developing the relationship with the Palestinian man at the hospital to continue the work shows the capacity for cooperation among groups “known” to be irreconcilable.  He works for the good of a country which doesn’t represent him, or others, but of which he is a valuable part.  This loyalty to the country and/or people (I wonder what he would say the loyalty is to) is admirable regardless of citizenship.

Kristina Seslija: Personally, I found Kristina to be one of the most impressive people we met.  She now works in conflict resolution, but during the war, she would have been classified with “the bad guys.”  She still lives with the ramifications of her Serbian heritage, less in her own actions, but more in the reception she receives from others.  I admire her for talking honestly about an antagonistic mindset and outlook which in my life has appeared in books, but few people have come close to acknowledging in real life.  I think that United Statesians could take more than a few pages from her book in confronting our own history.  The past is subjective in many respects, but it did happen.  We change and grow as individuals, neighborhoods, nationalities, states, but the past can’t actually be erased.  She works to improve the future by using the understanding from her past.

Kemal Pervanic: Kemal introduced us to some of the most vividly unimaginable elements of the war.  Among other experiences, he was held in a camp in his town, where one of his former teachers was a guard.  The stories he told of what neighbors, mentors, teachers, did during that time, and then how they returned to their previous lives, continues to make me wonder what humanity actually is.  Is there really good and evil?  I think there is right and wrong, but the other duality, I’m not sure.  Logic and reason vs chaos?  However, after being taken to England, he has returned to Bosnia to record and relate stories from both sides of the camps, because it is so important that these things not be forgotten.  They need to know the stories, to know what can happen if the wrong path is chosen, but at the same time have the compassion and forgiveness to live now.  It requires prodigious feats of trust, but distrust and fear do not lead to peace and prosperity.

A bookseller I chanced to talk with for some minutes in Banja Luka was very pessimistic; he has a degree in agricultural engineering, but works at a tent in the city plaza, being paid under the table, because that is more practical than agricultural engineering (which could be a valuable skill in a country which desperately needs systems with which to sustainably support itself).  He was frustrated that when tourists come, they see a beautiful, peaceful country, where he sees a lot of tension and sees that tension between the composite cultures deeping.  He reflects the fears and insecurity which many in the country learned in 1991, when “it was bad, but war just wouldn’t happen- that’s impossible” was proven tragically wrong.

We always have a choice of which path to take.

Week 1 of class, and I already have homework!

I promise, reflections on Bosnia are in the works.  In the meantime, the profe assigned us to write an entry on the conflicts we are most interested in helping transform.  It was a brainstorming piece, and I ended up doing a semi-chronological free-write, which I now share, if you've wondered why I have chosen my current path.

______

I have always loved to travel, and have wanted to see and get to know the world since I can remember.  Through life, I learned about languages and how culture can vary across a single city, across a region, across a country, before I even set foot abroad.  

Cincinnati, OH, is where I grew up.  In many respects I'm not meaningfully "from" there, but in some respects, it played a significant role in my life.  I went to a variety of schools, including a homeschool program, which were populated by varying mixes of Black and White students, ranging from my being the only non-Black kid at one school, to there only being White kids at another.  For the most part, I was young enough that it didn't really matter; we lived in a predominantly Black neighborhood at the time, and there were only a couple of other kids around- so we were friends, because the racial differences were meaningless and unimportant- we wanted to play!  Cincinnati is also on the north shore of the Ohio River, which meant that it was a significant point to reach on the Underground Railroad.  In school, we learned about slavery, and the supporting institutions, year after year, and occasionally had demonstrations like where they made 20 students stand in a small box to demonstrate how closely the Africans were packed on the ships.

When I was around 12 or so, I learned the words "ethnic cleansing" and "genocide," about of the violence in Serbia and Kosovo.  I had no idea of the significance of the final collapse of Yugoslavia, or its place in history.

In high school, I found myself repeatedly frustrated by this incomprehensible trend of people treating other people as less-than.  In the slave trade, in the Holocaust (made more personal by a close relationship with my Jewish cousins, although I am not), and then the euphamistic "cleansing" in Kosovo, and so I dove into engineering and physics, taking haven in the purity and beauty of numbers and math, formulas that could take a convoluted expression and distill it into a simple line of variables.

But, then I went to college, and among many other things, learned about the Rwandan genocide, US coverage of which was masked by the nationally enthralling O.J.Simpson trial, about many of the cultural and developmental consequences of European colonialism in Africa (and the United States, and Australia, and Asia...)  About the trends of educating indigenous children out of their culture and into Europeanism, where they would never be fully accepted.  About the Uigher people in China, who don't have a charismatic leader like the Dalai Lama to the south to bring attention and international sympathy to their support.

I joined the Peace Corps and lived in a rural town in Panama for 2 years, learning firsthand about the disparity between the urban Canal Zone, and the other (vast majority) of the country, about the deep racial lines which unofficially determine who runs which kind of store, to the point where a convenience store is called "the Chinese," and where machismo and sexism is rampant and widely accepted, as well as prevalent alcoholism in a society struggling to balance familiar values and models of how life works, with imposed technology and development, that tries to be benevolent but is tragically disconnected from the actual needs of the recipients.

I lived in Seattle, WA, where I met homeless men and women who just needed a leg up, who had mental challenges, who don't have legal residence, who are tired of the competitive rat race.  

Over time, I've met people who really believe that education is teaching others what to think, instead of how to think.  I've met people who say "but not me or mine or us," who say "yeah, that's rough," who say, "wow, their society is so backwards," who say "it isn't my/our/my country's problem," and then move on to complain about the offhand, slighting, remark their co-worker made about them, that they happened to overhear.

So, the conflict that compels me isn't specific.  It is sort of the conflict between my understanding of humanity as a glorious mess all figuring out how to move forward together, and the framework of us vs. them.  It's how a society can try to thrive, while actively undercutting part of its population, because they look/act/sound/value differently, even though the differences bring the richness.