Black Past, Grey Future?
| DOI | 10.1177/002070209805300202 |
| Published date | 01 June 1998 |
| Author | John Graham |
| Date | 01 June 1998 |
| Subject Matter | Article |
JOHN
GRAHAM
Black
past,
grey
future?.
A
post-Dayton
view
ofBosnia
and
Herzegovina.
A
personal
essay
based
on
the
author's
experience
in
Bosnia
in
1996and
1997
BEFORE
I
LEFT
FOR
BOSNIA
IN
EARLY
MARCH,
1996,
I
did
some
read-
ing,
obtained
briefings,
and
found
in
the basement
an
old
Serbo-Croa-
tian
phrase
book. In
large
print
on
the
cover
it
said,
inaccurately:
'With
this
book
you
need
never
be at
a
loss
when
conversing
with
Serbo-Croat
speaking
people.'
However,
there
were
some
useful
phrases
inside,
such
as
'Where
can
I
buy
a
rifle?'
and
'How
many
Men
of
War
are
lying
in
your
harbour?'
Thus
equipped,
I
stepped onto
the
scarred
apron
of
Sarajevo
airport
with
four
companions:
a
former
(and,
I
thought,
still
active) Russian
intelligence
officer,
a
Dane
(who
was
ill
and
had to
be given oxygen
dur-
ing
the
flight),
a
Swede,
and
another
Canadian.
The
Russian impressed
us
as
a
crisis
hardened
international
because
his luggage
included
a
ten-
nis
racquet.
All
of
us
were
taking
up
long-term
assignments
with
the
Organization
for
Security
and
Cooperation
in
Europe
(OSCE),
the
instrument
chosen
by
the
Dayton
peace
accord
for delivering
elections,
human
rights,
and
democratization
to
Bosnia
and
Herzegovina.
It
was
a
raw
afternoon
with
snow
on
the
ground
and
the
feel
of
more
to come.
Retired
Canadian
Ambassador
andformer
head
of
the
Unit
fr
the Promotion
of
Democracy
in
the
OAS.
In
addition
to
Bosnia,
he
has
been
engaged
in
election
support
in
a
number
ofcountries
including
the
Dominican
Republic,
Haiti,
and
Paraguay.
INTERNATIONAL
JOURNAL
Spring
1998
Post-Dayton
Bosnia
and
Herzegovina
We
piled
our
luggage
and
ourselves
into
the back
of
a
van
and
set
off
for
town. Exploratory
conversations
begun
that
morning
in
Vienna
shut
down
as
we
drove
through
a
corridor
of
devastation.
The
shock
was
just
beginning.
A
few days
later
I
took
the
long
drive
to
my
post
in
Bihac
in
northwestern
Bosnia.
Neither
my
briefings nor
CNN
had
prepared
me
for
the
human
desolation.
This
was
1996
and
the
peace
was
only
five
months
old.
Most
of
the
day's
journey
was
through
ruins.
Towns
and
villages
gutted,
some
by armed
conflict
but
most
burned
or
blown up
by
one or
other
of
the
opposing
ethnic
forces.
Bosansko
Grahovo
was
a
grim
example.
It
had
been
a
town
of
about
3,000
people,
with
small
lumber
mills
and
a
furniture
factory.
On
this
first
visit, there
was
not
a
living
thing
-
except
for
one
mourn-
ful
dog
standing
in
the
snow
by
a
row
of
demolished
terrace
houses.
I
travelled
with
a
kind
of
hollow
pain
somewhere
between
chest
and
stomach.
I
also
learned
that
to
move
about
in
Bosnia
you
needed
not
only
a
road map
but
an
ethnic
map.
Take
the
town
of
Drvar
-
a
Tito
strong-
hold
during
the
Second
World
War.
It
was
important
to
know
that
it
was
99
per
cent
Croat.
It
was
essential
to
know
that
before
the
Bosnian
war it
was
97
per
cent
Serb.
Prijedor
had
been
44
per
cent Muslim,
42
per
cent
Serb,
and
6
per
cent
Croat.
It
is
now
about
98
per
cent
Serb
-
and
so
on with
similar
dramatic
inversions
across
the
country.
After
places
like
Bosansko
Grahovo
and
Drvar,
Bihac wasn't
so
bad.
The
centre
of
what
became
known
as
the
Bihac
pocket
during
the
war,
the
town
was
my
base
for
seven
months
in
1996
and
another
seven
months
in
1997.
The
climate
is
not
unlike
that
of
Ottawa.
The
winter
is
long
but
not
as
cold,
which
is
just
as
well
as
there
is
almost
no
central
heating.
The
food
is
haute
cholesterol
-
fried
beef,
mutton,
veal,
and
fat-laden
french
fries.
Because
of
demented
driving, the
roads
are
more
lethal
than
the
minefields.
But
the
setting
is
splendid.
Bihac
lies
in
a
wide
mountain
valley,
astride
a
turquoise
river.
It
was
predominantly
Muslim
before
the
war,
and
now it
is
more
predominantly
Muslim.
The
electronically magnified
voice
of
the muezzin heralds
the
day
at
4:55
am.
Bihac
had
not
been
physically
overrun.
It
had
withstood
a
siege
almost
as
long
as
Sarajevo,
and with
that
city, Srebenica,
and
a
few
oth-
ers,
shared
the much
caricatured
distinction
of
having
been designated
a 'safe
area' by
the
United
Nations.
Unlike
Srebenica,
it
survived.
The
United
Nations
and
its
military
arm
in
Bosnia,
UNPROFOR
(United
INTERNATIONAL
JOURNAL
Spring 1998
205
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