Sarajevo – it still exists

“As long as Sarajevo exists, this newspaper will publish every day”, the editor-in-chief of Oslobodjenje is remembered to have said to his employees when the siege of Sarajevo began. The multi-ethnic paper did come out every day, and still exists – even no the two towers of newspaper are completely destroyed – and will remain like that, as a memorial of the war.

I remember watching the Swiss ski team on TV in 1984 at the Olympic games in Sarajevo. I also remember pronouncing “Sarajevo” dozens, hundreds of times on the radio, telling people that a new cease-fire had been agreed upon… Now I have arrived here myself, by train, and every minute of the day, the word “Sarajevo” is in my mind.

The Olympic town has been thrown into the Middle Ages from one day to the other – during the 3-year siege, university professors became wood-collectors, and going out of your house was a deadly risk. Despite all the books, I never really emotionally understood the difference between attacking and defending in a war until I talked to the people in Sarajevo. The former front line is all around the city. You can still recognize it clearly: It’s where the trees start on the hills. Everything wooden has been cut to survive the winters. When you walk around town, there is almost no place where this tree-front-line can’t be seen.

Zihad was one of the defenders. The man in his 30ies tells me how he bought weapons in a town where even foreign head of states had troubles getting in. There were two ways, he explains: from the Croats – but they would take 50% for themselves (and possibly use them against Bosniaks elsewhere), or from the Serbs on the hills:

“We are both behind our respective frontlines. Then I would shout: ‘I want to buy a Kalashnikov. Can we make a truce?’ Then the Serb would respond: ‘OK, let’s make a truce from 4 p.m.’ At that time, both come out of their positions and negotiate. 500 DM for the gun, 1 DM per bullet. I give him 1000 DM, he gives me the gun. At 5 p.m. we go back behind our lines and start shooting at each other again”.

I ask him: “Do you know that you live in the craziest country in Europe?” - “Yes”, he shouts, laughs, and dances on the streets of Sarajevo.

The humor is universal with all ethnicities in Bosnia and Herzegovina (so is the driving style). A very popular souvenir – except for all kinds of used ammunition with pictures hammered in - is the Sarajevo Survival Map and the Sarajevo Survival Guide. The latter, which came out during the siege, can only be warmly recommended. The authors tell you how “to cook something out of nothing” and why driving fast over crossroads is the rule in Sarajevo (to escape snipers). In the introduction of the Michelin-style travel guide, you can read: “War so far hasn't changed the climate”.

But it has changed a lot of other things, even if the Turkish old town (Bascarsija) is basically rebuilt (except for the National Library). So-called "Sarajevo red roses" - artillery craters filled with red gum - are a reminder of the places where three or more people have died. The outskirts of town still look horrible. It won’t be long before war tourism sets in. A Sarajevo Survival Shop has already opened, but I haven’t spotted any “I have survived Sarajevo” T-Shirt yet.

Foreigners govern Bosnia and Herzegovina. The “White House” is one of the nicknames people give to the seat of the “Office of the High Representative”. That’s where the real decisions are made. The High Representative has to agree with himself about everything the democratically elected nationalists can’t agree amongst themselves: common flag, common licence plate, common currency, common border police, new passport, return of refugees, ... He can impose measures and depose politicians – and has done so.

All ethnic groups agree that this European protectorate is not what they want. If you are against it, you must be ready to accept the alternative: apartheid, brought about by “ethnic cleansing” and genocide.

The foreigners get a lot of money (“It’s the only reason we are in this shitty place”,  says one). A lot of them have an alcohol problem. And like in comparable places, intelligent locals have made sure foreigners are catered for. In the “Internet Café” (a restaurant and a disco, it changes names frequently), foreigners and locals mix and try to dance and drink it all away. When the place closes, three young women ask if I want to go to another disco they know with them. OK. On the way there, I realize that one of them is a Serb, one a Croat, and one a Bosniak. Sarajevo was always like that. “I love you all”, I said to them. After the second disco closes around 5 a.m.), they asked where my car is or if I have money for a taxi. When I say that I am walking and that I am also not willing to pay their taxi, they were all – ethnically equal – pissed. No car, no money, no marriage.

Bosniaks, Serbs, Croats, Jews, SFOR-soldiers, employees of international organizations, and the few tourists, all have one in common in the afternoon: they are just terribly hot in the summer sun of Sarajevo.

Sarajevo will soon be a town ready again to accommodate tourists, and in the nearby Pale, you can already now do world-class skiing.

I interview many representatives of the so-called "international community" in the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina. These are probably not of big interest to visitors to this page. I would like to point out, however, one remarkable woman from an NGO called "Society for Threatened Peoples" (Gesellschaft für bedrohte Völker). Fadila Memisevic is now the head of the Bosnian section of this human rights organization. Even during the war, she went from Germany through all of war-torn Bosnia to Zenica, risking her life for the people there. Today, she still believes in a multi-cultural Bosnia and Herzegovina. She repeats again and again: "One cannot destroy our multi-cultural Bosnia with weapons". One might say that it already has been destroyed by weapons, but Bosnia needs people like her. Bosnia doesn't need the young pessimists who leave the country as soon as they can for a better future abroad. Fadila is especially engaged for the women of Srebrenica: "They want truth" - a bitter truth it will probably be. She also often points out the destiny of the Roma, which many people only know as beggar children on the street. Fadila is not neutral and not impartial. But being impartial in this conflict meant being impartial between aggressors and victims. You can't expect someone to just leave this psychological baggage behind.

Contrary to what I expected, everyone wants to talk about war. One elderly man insists on telling me every detail on how his son defended Sarajevo while his son's friends watched the war on TV in Germany. After more than two hours, I find out that the man is a Serb, and that his son was in the Bosnian army. "It was not written on the heads of the people who is a Serb and who is a Muslim", he says, which lets me think about "target discrimination" on the part of the attackers on the hills....

But despite all of this, Sarajevo still exists, and it's worth a trip

  Next: One Day in Srebrenica 

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