We have been wanting to visit sites of suffering and remembrance for civilians and soldiers in Mostar with a mixed group of war veterans for a long time, our attempts to make this happen date back to 2010. It was not for lack of contacts or people prepared to help us, but the time was not right. This is the situation as reflected in the media: all these years Mostar is without a democratically elected local government, the epitome of a “divided city”, a “difficult case”, the collateral damage of Čović’s and Dodik’s political trading, patronised by SDA in passing.
Heroes of the times
It is all this, but that is not all it is. We organised the visit thanks to the cooperation and perseverance of ARBiH and HVO veterans from Bijelo Polje, a suburb of Mostar. “That’s how it was in those times and we were all soldiers and we were all heroes of the times. Today, we’re even greater heroes because we are extending a hand in reconciliation and forgiveness and I hope this is a big step for Mostar,” said our host Stanislav Krezić, an HVO war veteran and prison camp survivor. Along with Stano, we also owe gratitude for making the visit of a mixed group of war veterans to Bijelo Polje possible to our old friend Zoran Zovko, head of the cantonal HVIDR organisation; Enver Karabeg, head of the Bijelo Polje Veterans’ Organisation and Haris Kljako, head of the Disabled War Veterans Association of Stari Grad Mostar.
Although today Mostar is mostly inhabited by Croats and Bosniaks, in almost equal numbers, there are at least three narratives about the war and at least three memory policies, each with its own monuments. These ethnic lines are never crossed, not even when it comes to honouring victims. Crossing that kind of line is a heroic endeavour: the mixed group of war veterans visited the site of the mass grave for Bosniak and Croat civilians in Sutina, as well as sites of remembrance for killed soldiers of ARBiH, HVO and VRS.
(New) normal?
In our society, as if it were not unusual enough for war veterans of ARBiH and HVO to visit and honour each other’s monuments, they also did this for those who within the Federation of BiH are seen as the epitome of the enemy, the soldiers of VRS. To make the matter more unusual, the veterans were joined by the Herzegovina-Neretva Canton minister for veterans Oliver Soldo and assistant minister Halil Ćućurević. Though they work together within the ministry for veterans, this was the first time they visited these monuments together. The minister publicly supported the initiative and in statements given to the media he pointed out how we lack such “normal events where people talk to each other in all their similarities and differences, respecting and recognising each other.” We can continue developing this city together, he added and called for respect for all victims “because these were all people who lost their lives”.
We have been visiting sites of suffering for a long time, both marked and unmarked. For a long time, in paying our respects we make no difference between civilians and soldiers, which is sometimes held against us when we are accused of relativism and admonished that not all victims are the same. Veterans are torn within the framework that controls remembrance today, a society that sees/uses them as heroes and another that perceives/uses them as wrongdoers. “Our” soldiers are the heroes, our enemies are the wrongdoers. “We” fought for the right cause, “they” are aggressors and morally suspect. It is, therefore, expected that we will visit monuments to “our” heroes and disdain monuments to “theirs”, this being the current model of the culture of memory, marked off in space and restrictive in terms of who is welcome to come pay their respects.
We believe that all victims of war deserve respect, both civilian and military victims. Paying respects to all those killed does not mean approving of their aims, if any, but is instead an expression of decency and mourning for the loss of human lives. That was our motivation on this occasion as well, when we visited Bijelo Polje.
Blessed are the peacemakers!
The group was made up of some 30 war veterans, former members of ARBiH, the Croatian Army, the Croat Defence Council, the Yugoslav Army and the Army of Republika Srpska, who came from Brčko, Bihać, Šamac, Novi Grad, Zavidovići, Jajce, Zagreb, Kruševac, Goražde, Sarajevo and Mostar. To start, our hosts introduced us to the wartime events in the area of Bijelo Polje.
The first monument we visited was the central monument to fallen HVO fighters next to the Church of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus in Potoci. We laid flowers and paid our respects, and were then addressed by Don Josip Galić. He asked us if we were working from our hearts? He was intrigued by our company, so he kept repeating, partly to himself and partly for all of us to hear, important questions such as the relationship between brother and brother, neighbour and neighbour. He told us about how much the people of Bijelo Polje had suffered, he talked about forgiveness and reconciliation. We prayed for all those killed and their families, and then Don Josip read from the Gospel of Matthew… Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God, thundered Don Josip’s voice through the small speaker beneath the monument in the shape of a cross. He told us how the vertical base is man’s exaltation towards God, while the horizontal line of the cross symbolises neighbourly love. “If what you are doing, you do from the heart, may you be blessed,” he said in parting. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” said the Christian Orthodox priest in Zijemlje to the congregation, not knowing that we had heard the same message from the Catholic priest.
Visiting sites of suffering, I accept such blessings with relief because I feel I need them. You give the most you can, the rest is not in your power, not how the community will accept you, whether people will understand what you do or why, how the event will be perceived by those who hear about it on the news, the pressures that those involved may be subject to…
We made our way to Sutina. The monument is located near the site where in 1992 a mass grave was discovered with bodies of Bosniaks and Croats killed there in the night between 13 and 14 June 1992, as were their fellow citizens found at Uborak. The plan was to come with a mixed group of war veterans to the commemoration on 13 June, but due to the pandemic, we decided to attend the commemoration with just a small delegation. We are grateful to the association of families of victims who welcomed us when we came to lay the wreaths and we hope that next time we will be able to come in greater number of visit all three sites connected to this war crime. This is an unpunished crime that was committed under the authority of JNA general Momčilo Perišić, but he was never held accountable for the shelling of Mostar, or for the crimes committed in Uborak, Sutina and Zalik.
Next we visited the central monument to shahids and fallen fighters of the Army of RBiH next to the Karađoz-beg Mosque in Potoci. I stand there with one of my friends, a veteran of ARBiH, he’s grumbling because of the high grass, the neglect of places like this, that fountain down by the church doesn’t work either, he says. We look at the plaque with the names and photographs of fallen fighters. These plaques reveal where half my generation has gone. They were all young, we conclude. And we mourn. A prayer starts in front of the monument inscribed with the names of the killed. At this monument, just like at those we visited before, we are asked to pay our respects to the dead “in the manner each of us considers suitable”. When I heard this for the first time, I was upset, I thought it went without saying and that no one should remind us that we are different. Only now does it occur to me that this also includes the “unbelievers”, those of us not sure to whom we address our prayers.
A bridge over the mountain
We left Zijemlje, a village in Istočni Mostar, some 25 km from the city centre, and drove for 40 minutes along a macadam road over Velež to reach Potoci. The mountain air and breeze are welcome because the temperature is already above 30 degrees down in the valley. We run across excavators and trucks working on the road, which can only mean elections are coming. Of the 20 kilometres of road, the hard-working builders have already completed some 30 meters or so. We come out onto a plain, houses dotting the small slopes, some of them still in ruins. Most of us have never been here before, we breathe deeply and admire the nature, the sheep grazing peacefully around us. On the way to the graveyard and church where the monument to fallen fighters of VRS is located, we meet locals tending to potato patches. They ask us who we are and what we’ve come for. Some of our friends linger in conversation with them.
We met Father Nebojša Radić last year, when he accepted our invitation to a meeting of our group. He gladly accepted our invitation again this time and we came to see him lead a prayer in front of the monument. I stand there with a colleague who comments how he prefers the Christian Orthodox service to my Catholic one, because it is somehow softer and gentler. I nod my head, the chants and prayers are carried on the wind, we hear the names of those killed that are also inscribed on the monument. We are also joined by one of the locals we saw tending potatoes. In the meantime, he had heard who we were, he blesses us, says we need more things like this. The mountain sees us off with a rush of wind.
Returning to Bijelo Polje, we discuss our impressions of the places and people we’ve seen. As women, we have certain prejudices about how men, especially men of war, handle the emotional burden of this scale – to be able to bow to the enemy, express respect and mourn the loss of every human life requires profound inner psychological work. The way these people do so is an example to learn from because it leaves room for the views of others, for a different perspective of the war than what we have been taught, for the suffering of others, and for compassion. It is a privilege to be with them.
We spent the rest of the day in Mostar. We visited the Church of the Holy Trinity which is being reconstructed and is under UNESCO protection. It was built in 1873, but in 1992 it was first set on fire and then dynamited. Father Nebojša gave us a brief history of the Serb people in the Mostar area. How much Mostar has changed in the meantime can be seen from the fact that in 1991 there were some 23 thousands Serbs and 12 thousand Yugoslavs living there, while today there are under 5 thousand of them in and around Mostar. We visited the monument to Aleksa Šantić, and his Emina, and to make our visit to Mostar complete, our hosts from army associations organised a group photo on the Old Bridge and a skilful dive by a young lad into the Neretva. Those who have been to Mostar as tourists know how rarely you have an opportunity to see a dive – and although we were all middle aged, at that moment we were excited like children. I suddenly had a feeling of normality, the same I felt as a child when I climbed the stairs of the Old Town, as if Mostar never stopped being as I remember it – a city with room for all, where the mix of religions and peoples is not an impediment, but a comparative advantage. Have we forgotten how to be such people?
There is hope, even for us constantly dealing with the consequences of the war, trust is being built slowly, but it isn’t out of reach. We deal with this challenge most in places that commemorate victims from among my own people. Perhaps the commemoration in Grabovica is for me the best litmus test for what we want to achieve with veteran peace actions. We went there on the morning of 9 September.
Grabovica 1993
A group of civilians were killed on 8 and 9 September 1993 in Grabovica, a village located between Jablanica and Mostar. According to the Association of Croat Victims “Grabovica 93”, over those few days, 33 civilians were killed and their remains have mostly not been found to this day. Five members of the Army of RBiH have been convicted of this war crime before the courts in BiH.
This is the third time that I have attended this commemoration. The first time we came as a small delegation, then we came with a group of veterans, and we did so again this year, but with smaller numbers due to restrictions on account of the pandemic. A few years ago, we were not welcome at this commemoration. No one will tell you so to your face, but you get a clear sense of it from how arrangements are made. We did not give up, we went to meetings, we tried to explain to the organisers of the commemoration what it is we do and what we want to achieve. When we were finally invited to come with a group of veterans, the first impression of the commemoration were Thompson’s marching songs reverberating from the speakers. At that time, I had the feeling that the priest leading the service read our request to join the commemoration only to bring our mission into question. But going to commemorations is least about how we ourselves feel, we are not there for ourselves, we come to pay our respects to the victims. That was our intention in coming to Grabovica this year as well. This time, there were no Thompson songs. The speech held by the president of the Association and organiser of the commemoration Josip Drežnjak mentioned all victims and the need to recognise and show respect towards all victims. Once again, he called on institutions to stop covering up this crime and prosecute those responsible. The war crime in Grabovica was part of the indictment against Sefer Halilović, but he was acquitted due to lack of evidence. This does not mean, however, that the search for those responsible should stop and by coming here we hope to provide support to the families of victims in their efforts.
For some this incremental progress may seem negligible, but in peace work small steps are all there is. When you are overwhelmed by the enormity of the task, having to backtrack, being exposed to pressure and lack of understanding, it is worth remembering that things change slowly and that every effort invested results in some small step towards understanding and that if your heart is in it, there will always be a response. “We are here to show that we can do this together and that we should move forward, that we can make this step towards a better future for us all, especially for the new generations. We have come to send the message that war should never happen to anyone again. By coming here, we wanted to show that we are still all people and that we can live together,” said one of our veterans when talking to the media. There is nothing to add to this, except that we already have allies even in the most unexpected places, such as the beautiful city of Mostar.
Photo galleries:
Media reports:
Glas Krajine
Starmo.ba
Biscani.net
Federalna.ba
In4s.net iz Mostara i Bijelog Polja