May 2, 1996
Muslim Visitors Called Mortal Danger by Serbs
By KIT R. ROANE
RNOVO, Bosnia -- When Obren joined the Serbian exodus from the Sarajevo suburb of Ilidza more than two months ago, he thought Muslims would be just a bad memory. He wouldn't have to see their children playing in the streets, watch their women hoe in the yard, or their men bow in prayer.
"I was finally going to be through with their war, their oppression and their crafty lies," he said with a grimace. "We had our republic and they had their side, and things were finally going to be peaceful."
But Obren found out on Monday that his life as a Serbian separatist was not to be so easy. Busloads of Muslims came that day to Trnovo, where Obren lives in a little house expropriated from its Muslim owner.
Other Serbs across the country found similar unwanted guests on the way, as multitudes of Muslims tried to visit their former homes and the graves of their relatives on Bijram, one of Islam's main religious holidays.
The right to make such visits, and ultimately the return of refugees to their former homes, is guaranteed by the Dayton peace accord.
But what NATO calls freedom of movement seems more of an invasion to the Serbs. With sticks, shovels and rocks, they have gathered daily to defend their new republic from the Muslim visitors.
Outside Trnovo, 20 miles south of Muslim-held Sarajevo, Obren's neighbors ignored the NATO tanks escorting the convoy, attacking the buses and their Muslim occupants with clubs and bricks.
Serbs routed another group of returnees in Doboj, northwest of Sarajevo. Scuffles gave way to shootings. And as the Muslims fled, some ran into a minefield. The end result of this exercise in freedom of movement: two dead and more than a dozen injured.
"We can't live with them. If they don't understand that, I guess the only solution is to kill them," Obren said matter-of-factly. His 80-year-old neighbor, who would not give her name, added that she was too old to participate in the Trnovo rumble.
"The defense must be left up to the younger ones," she said, looking back to her 64-year-old neighbor, who smiled.
"I don't know why they chose now to visit their graves anyway," Obren said. "Muslims never tended their graves like the Serbs do. Besides, we're not going over to their side, so they shouldn't come over here. I don't care what the Dayton agreement says. It's just a piece of paper. The border is real."
Some Serbs have crossed what is known as the inter-entity boundary line separating the two republics to visit their homes. But they are far fewer than the Muslims, and their returns have usually been accepted, thought not always.
The fact that Serbs have generally chosen to boycott this section of the agreement, and resist anyone who doesn't, has left NATO in a peculiar quandary that so far seems incapable of resolution.
A few NATO ground commanders have attempted to escort convoys into Serb areas, such as Trnovo, only to find themselves blocked or stoned. But for the most part, NATO has used its muscle to prevent returns, stating that overwhelming safety concerns outweigh enforcement of this provision of the agreement and that it is up to local police to control their people and assure the safety of those returning.
Blocking the pilgrimages has appeared fruitless, however, as returnees now routinely evade checkpoints. But depending on the Serb police to protect the Muslims is equally ill-advised. When Mina Meduselav 56, tried to cross into Doboj the day before the mine accident, she was quickly sent packing by the Serbian police, as a menacing mob of Serbian civilians stood by.
"I just want to go there and see my daughter, just for five minutes, and then I will leave," Ms. Meduselav pleaded.
"The masses won't let you," replied one officer before yanking her out of the car. "Get out and go back to your side."
The Serbs, many of them refugees themselves, say they are blocking the returns because the Muslims have been given too much in the Dayton accord. The Muslims got Sarajevo and an international commitment to arm them, they say, adding that their own region is being treated like a poor stepchild.
They also say there is no room left in their republic, noting that Serbs who fled the Sarajevo suburbs, such as Obren, now inhabit former Muslim homes. And they argue that the Serbs fought a war for separation, which should be respected.
"If we could have lived together, we would have," said a man who gave his name only as Milutin, a lifelong resident of Trnovo. "We couldn't, and that's why we had a war."
Their attitudes are steeped in fear. In Trnovo, most Serbs refused to give their names, or offer what appear to be aliases, saying they are scared that former Muslim neighbors will sneak into town and kill them.
They told of Serbs found beheaded and how Muslim troops made a habit of shooting the innocent.
In all this, they say, their side is, of course, blameless. The shelling incidents that killed dozens of Muslims in Sarajevo are seen as clever fabrications, while the 8,500 Muslim men missing from Srebrenica, a Muslim enclave overrun last July, are commonly said to have either died of venereal disease or because they attacked Serbian soldiers who were giving them safe passage.
"In our whole history, the Serbs have never attacked anyone," said Obren. "We wanted a divided country but the Muslims wanted war."
His elderly neighbor added that when her sons went off to war, she told them "never to fire on children or women, but the Muslims shot whatever moved."
"I had two houses before the war and a Muslim family lived in one," she said. "We were great friends until they burned them down. Muslims aren't like Serbs. They scare me to death."
