Participants Blog

Where is Bosnia’s Nelson Mandela?

A Canadian with a new home in Bosnia on Religious/Ethnic Apartheid in Gornji Vakuf-Uskoplje: Where is Bosnia’s Nelson Mandela?

Part I: Introduction

When I wake up each morning, it doesn’t take long for my sleepy eyes to notice that I’m in someone else’s bed; that the blankets, room, and mountains bear hugging me aren’t mine at all. Who’s are they? Gradually, with a cup of Bosnian coffee (so potent I probably only needed a teaspoon) I start to remember.

The room and blankets belong to the Sabic’s, the warm family I will be staying with for the next three months during my work term in Gornji Vakuf-Uskopje (GVU), a town of roughly 4,000 in the Bosnian part of Bosnia-Hercegovina. But to whom the mountains belong is more complicated.

Croatians and Serbians tried to claim Bosnian land (its mountains, rivers, etc.) as their own in 1992, leading to the 3-year war. As a result, today in 2009, Bosnia is divided into three parts; the Republika Serbika (largely Orthodox Serbians), Herzegovina (largely Croatian Christians), and Bosnia (largely Muslim Bosnians).
The room and blankets belong to the Sabic’s, the warm family I will be staying with for the next three months during my work term in Gornji Vakuf-Uskopje (GVU), a town of roughly 4,000 in the Bosnian part of Bosnia-Hercegovina. But to whom the mountains belong is more complicated.

Croatians and Serbians tried to claim Bosnian land (its mountains, rivers, etc.) as their own in 1992, leading to the 3-year war. As a result, today in 2009, Bosnia is divided into three parts; the Republika Serbika (largely Orthodox Serbians), Herzegovina (largely Croatian Christians), and Bosnia (largely Muslim Bosnians).

Part II: Apartheid

I used to think apartheid disintegrated with Nelson Mandela’s human rights movement in South Africa. I was wrong. While GVU is not divided in terms of ‘race’, it is divided in terms of ethnicity and religion, something like ‘religious/ethnic apartheid’. A single road divides the Muslim and Christian populations, as well as their homes, employment, and public services. Thus, the town has two of everything. The Muslim children go to the school on the Muslim side of town (‘Gornji Vakuf’), and the Catholic children go to the school on the Catholic side of town (‘Uskoplje’). They do not mix. This is also the case in Mostar, as well as many other cities and towns in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and these cities are microcosms of the country as a whole.

This ‘ethnic apartheid’ is even manifested in beer. I wanted to try a Sarajesko pivo last night (Hamdija, my host dad, says it’s the best beer in Bosnia) but not a single bottle of Sarajevsko was to be seen at Charlie’s, a gem of a café decorated a la Charlie Chaplin. Why? Because Charlie’s is located on the Croatian side of town, and Sarejesko pivo is a Bosnian beer that Bosnians drink, not Croatians. This small detail represents something much larger; that the division between both populations is felt in every aspect of society, even the liquid you chose to intoxicate yourself with.

As is such, I am excited to be working for an NGO with such an important mission: to build co-existence and trust between both populations. The Omladinski Centar (Bosnian for ‘Youth Centre’) is the only place in Gornji Vakuf where Christian and Muslim young people can hang out together. I feel my role coordinating activities for children and youth between the ages of 8 and 13 is important knowing that friendship and co-operation between Christian and Muslim children can stop prejudices from being passed on from parents to younger generations who represent the future.

At the same time, working at the center where some children from one side of town refuse to hold hands with children from the other side, it has become obvious that much more must be done in order to bridge both populations. Of utmost importance are mixed schools. There are two separate elementary schools. While the there is a single high school where Croats and and Bosniaks learn, Muslim teenagers are confined to the first floor, and Croatian teenagers to the second. In fact, according to Jasminka, the Center’s director and a former teacher, the division between children at school is worse than it was in 1996, directly after the war. 

While targeting youth is crucial, little progress will be made if the adult generation is ignored. Both parents and teachers have an enormous effect on children’s values and actions. A teacher in GVU-Uskoplje forbade his students from participating in inter-ethnic dialogue, directly undermining efforts to build inter-ethnic capacity. Unfortunately, as far as I know, there are no peace building efforts targeted at adults in GVU, where I believe there must be. 

Part III: Where is Bosnia’s Nelson Mandela?

So, where is Bosnia’s Nelson Mandela? When I ask people in GVU what will bring both sides together, most say “Nesnam”, Bosnian for I don’t know. Some say time and patience, others reminisce, saying Tito was the only force capable of uniting the various ethnic groups, while many believe joining the European Union will pave the way. But even at that, how long will it be until Bosnia is part of the EU? Bosnia is not even on the waiting list. And if Bosnia is anything like Croatia, the government may focus on building a functioning market economy and infrastructure to meet the requirements of joining the EU (the Copenhagen Criteria), while ignoring the actual needs of the people, and possibly division.

Jasminka, the center’s dedicated director who I mentioned earlier, sees herself as neither Christian nor Muslim. She jokes, saying she is without an identity, and that sometimes she is even unsure whether or not she is a woman. She sees herself simply as a person, just the way she sees others. She believes the future of the community depends on each individual. She is certainly doing her part; she’s the kind of person you wonder if they ever sleep.

I am appalled that there aren’t more initiatives to bring these groups together. Still, I am grateful the center in GVU exists, though it lacks serious funding and support. Two of the staff are paid (through Intercordia); and Jasminka, the director, is a full-time volunteer. According to Jasminka, the center lacks funding because of both corrupt gov. officials who pocket much of the money intended for social programming, as well because of lack of support from political parties who represent respective ethnic/religious groups, but none of which who are working towards uniting the populations. So, the Center, created after the war by the UNDP (United Nations Development Program), relies on funding from foreign governments on a project by project basis. Summer programming this year received no funding apart from Intercordia, so thirty-some children have had to share 3 glue sticks during crafts, or the 5 Canadian volunteers at the center have had to buy new ones from their own pockets.

It is difficult to attract children to the center when we lack the funding to conduct appealing activities for them. When American volunteers arrived for a week with slick craft supplies (their giant zip-lock bags containing dozens of glue sticks was like winning the lottery), participation at the center doubled. I looked into getting a grant from the Canadian embassy in Bosnia, but it is closing next month (August 2009). I also looked into getting funding from CIDA, but CIDA in Bosnia (BiH) currently has no funding mechanism through the Canada Fund for projects like these, and is also closing in March of 2010. Why is Canadian outreach in Bosnia ending? I can only speculate: perhaps it is because Bosnia is no longer a hot topic headlining the front pages of newspapers the way it was in 92-95 during the war? In “The Balkans: Nationalism, War, and the Great Powers, Misha Glenny points out that external forces (NATO) were essentially useless for intervening during the war, but that external investment in the country prior to could have had an effect in mitigating the conflict, showing the importance of giving funding to a country not only when it is in crisis. In addition, Canada pulling out likely has a lot to do with Stephen Harper’s selfish government, where Canadian aid is only extended to countries that will protect or benefit Canada.

Part IV: Effects of a divided society

But what is so wrong with a divided society, anyway? How does a divided society affect its citizens? What does the town’s division mean for the people living in GVU?

For my host sister Minela, it means being scared to walk onto the other side of town. I wanted to send a “brotherhood and unity” birthday post-card to a friend back in Canada, so I needed to get to the Post Office before it closed. I asked my little sister Minela, who is Muslim, if she wanted to come, and like any little sister – happy to follow her big sister anywhere she goes, she got excited and put on her pink rollerblades. But as soon as I turned left towards the Christian Uskoplje side of town, she pulled back my hand and told me she would stay home and play Grand Theft Auto instead. 

A few of the ways I the division of the town effects its citizens through personal observations and dialogue with people in GVU, though I am sure there are many more, are: a lack of trust of “the other” and therefore less of a sense of security, as well as less freedom; having two of everything: post office, elementary school, ect. means lower quality services - if there were a single elementary school, by the rule of economies of scale, and by pooling money and resources, and the services would likely be of better quality; there is frequent discrimination based on your ethnicity/religion, for example, a citizen can’t get a job on the “other side” even if they’re qualified, and this is particularly problematic in relatively poor GVU where unemployment is extremely high (my host dad and many of his friends are without jobs).

Part V: Being a Pseudo-Bosnian

Just the way I have borrowed a bed from the Sabic’s, I have also borrowed their life. Still, while I am living a similar life to the Bosnian Sabic’s, there are a few crucial differences. At any time, I am free to pack up and leave, forget about GVU, Bosnia, its division, the people who live here. My host family, though relatively well off, still financially cannot. In addition, the Canadian volunteers, are free to meander where we please where are host families are not. It’s as if we are pieces on a board game, and all outsiders are handed a special “go anywhere pass”, where the local citizens are limited to only half the squares on the board.

The hardest part of this experience is knowing realistically that I cannot change the division that exists in this town. As an outsider with a mere three months in GVU and a superficial understanding of the situation, I don’t know how. This is driving the activist thread in my fabric crazy! What if I dedicated my life to understanding the complexities of this situation, to finding a sustainable solution? Even then, what is the role of a Westerner, an external force, in reconciling tensions, if any?

I want to be BiH’s Desmond Tutu; to sew these two communities together. I want to be what Nelson Mandela was to South Africa, to Bosnia! But I am not from Bosnia like Nelson Mandela and Desmund Tutu were from South Africa, I’m an outsider with a Western perspective, even if Bosnia is beginning to feel like home.

The bridging of these communities will take much more than one person, and must be desired internally, by many people in the Former Yugoslavia. What will incite this desire? I don’t know. But I know that I am one additional person in the Former Yugoslavia who deeply desires this unity.

Part VI: Conclusion

After two months in GVU, now when I wake up each morning, it no longer feels like I’m in someone else’s bed. Bear hugging me are my bed, my blankets, my room; this is my home, if only temporarily. With a cup of Bosnian coffee (so potent I probably only needed a teaspoon) I wake up.  I walk out onto my balcony. I see a Baka (grandma) lounging on her patio. She sees me too! And we exchange Zdravo’s (Hello’s) My balcony becomes a vortex and I time travel into the future. I don’t know how it happened, the role I played, or how far into the future I’ve gone, but the mountains that surround me are now shared; the people of GVU live in peaceful co-existence. There is a river that flows between the two sides of Gornji-Vakuf-Uskoplje - the Verbas. I can see my host sister Minela, older and with longer hair, crossing freely onto the other side, which is now just another part of town; she is at home wherever she travels, free as the Verbas.

Anecdote: The difference between going for a jog in urban Ottawa and rural GVU

• mountainous terrain
• the sound of the Salat morning prayer
• “slow down” means nothing to my strictly Bosnian speaking jogging partner Ceto (pronounced Cheto), so near asthma attacks are more frequent
• shepards
• goats
• the occasional scarecrow

-Brigette DePape