May 12, 1996
Dreams of 'Greater Serbia' Live on in a Pale Bar
By CHRIS HEDGES
ALE, Bosnia-Herzegovina -- In the fading afternoon light, a group of former soldiers sat at a table in a bar along the rutted street that runs through the center of this Bosnian Serb stronghold.
They sang wistful Serbian folk songs of lost love, of battles against the Turks, the Austrians and the Germans that still color their view of the world. They tossed glasses against the wall.
"Please tell the Americans that we love them as much as they loved their Indians," said Zarko Krnjez, a former brigade commander. "Please tell them that this war is not over."
Such statements, however much they may be bravado, bode ill for a peaceful Bosnia once NATO troops leave. The Bosnian Serbs may be cynical about their leadership, but they are more cynical about everyone else. And the entire world, in this view, seems to be conspiring against them. So the Serbs remain defiant, and their leaders appear to be entrenched in power.
The West has refused to provide reconstruction aid to the Bosnian Serbs unless their leaders are removed. The two top leaders are under indictment by the international war crimes tribunal in The Hague, and a low-ranking Bosnian Serb is already on trial.
In the Bosnian Serbs' view, there are other examples of a world arrayed against them. In recent days, the attempts by Bosnian Muslims to cross into Serbian-held areas, often in groups of several hundred, to visit graveyards and former communities have been viewed as an effort to erase the boundaries dividing Muslim- and Serbian-held Bosnia.
The NATO-led peacekeeping force is also seen as an occupying power, intent on eroding the limited Bosnian Serb sovereignty. And the United Nations, the Vatican, the international press, the war crimes tribunal and just about every other world body are regarded as being implacably opposed to the Serbs.
"The NATO troops have more power here than they do in their own countries," said a 35-year-old television reporter, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. "This is what the West wanted. The West set out to destroy Yugoslavia by fomenting unrest, and it succeeded. Now the Muslims are sending over these groups of people, supposedly to visit graves, to provoke incidents. The Muslims want to get the international community behind their drive to seize the last part of Bosnia we still hold."
The reporter, interviewed in his office at the Pale television station, squashed out his cigarette. "We don't want to ever see Muslims again, much less live with them," he said. "And if the international community keeps trying to push us together we will have another war."
Radovan Karadzic, the Bosnian Serb leader, and Ratko Mladic, his military commander, both indicted by the war crimes tribunal, are seen by their followers as holding back the Muslim onslaught.
To the chagrin of the architects of the Bosnian peace accord reached in Dayton, Ohio, last year, Karadzic remains in power and plans to run in elections scheduled in the fall. His candidacy would be in defiance of the peace agreement, which bars him from running, and despite fierce criticism of him by Bosnian Serb political leaders in Banja Luka.
Washington has given up hope that President Slobodan Milosevic of Serbia will push the two Bosnian Serb leaders out of power.
"The more the international community attacks President Karadzic and calls for his trial in The Hague, the more his stature rises," Momcilo Krajisnik, the speaker of the Bosnian Serb Parliament, said in an interview in his office overlooking the town. "I expect the party will nominate the president again. I expect him to run."
(Karadzic and Mladic have gained in popularity since last year, according to a poll conducted by the U.S. Information Agency and released on May 7. The poll, a survey of 964 Bosnian Serbs living in Bosnia, said Karadzic improved his standing from 63 percent in 1995 to 68 percent. Mladic's rating rose from 87 percent to 93 percent, the poll said. But some Western diplomats cautioned that in a police state many Serbs would be reluctant to voice discontent.)
Pale is a depressed, overcrowded collection of dilapidated chalets outside Sarajevo. It was meant to be the Bosnian Serbs' capital only until the capture of Sarajevo from the Muslim-led government. But after the peace agreement, all of Sarajevo, including those parts occupied by the Serbs, was handed to the Muslim-led Bosnian government.
Pale has thus become a reminder that the heady dreams of a greater Serbia have failed. The few bars and half dozen restaurants cater to bitter, demobilized soldiers. These men remain colored by the deep distrust and alienation that have always marked the Serbian nationalist movement.
"All we have left is this piece of Bosnia," said a 34-year-old veteran who lost his brother in the war. "We are not so broken that we will not fight to defend it."
Tanka Radojevic lives with her husband and sons, aged 9 and 11, in a room in an old army barracks, along with seven other people. Her family heeded the call by the Pale leadership to flee the Sarajevo suburb of Ilidza before it was handed over to the Bosnian government in March.
Depressed and lonely, she dabbed her eyes as she spoke. She receives flour and cooking oil from the U.N. high commissioner for refugees. The Pale leadership has handed out only promises, many on the evening news broadcasts that are controlled by Karadzic, a psychiatrist before the war.
"The leadership told us they would build a new Serb Sarajevo," she said, referring to the promises about Pale. "That those who left would be given jobs and houses. Our leaders promised us a cinema, just like the ones we used to have in the city."
"But this is not Sarajevo, this is not a city," Mrs. Radojevic said. "There are no buses, no streetcars, no shops, no parks. The school does not educate our children. We want to get out of here and never return, but everyone hopes for something from our leaders. You see, they are all we have."
The Hotel Panorama, taken over by the Bosnian Serb leadership, sits on a hill overlooking Pale. The Bosnian Serb officials -- with their gleaming Mercedes and BMW sedans, their bodyguards and tailored suits -- often meet here. And they had gathered to hear a talk by a Belgrade pathologist, Dr. Zoran Stankovic.
He had just exhumed the bodies of 181 Serbs found in a mass grave in Mrkonjic Grad, 23 miles south of Banja Luka. The grave was discovered after the withdrawal of Croatian troops, part of the Dayton agreement's redrawing of the boundaries between the Serbian, Muslim and Croatian entities that now make up Bosnia.
While most of the civilian victims in this war were Muslim or Croatian, there were also atrocities committed against the Serbs. And these atrocities are magnified by the Serb leadership, while the reports of Serbian killing of Muslims, including some 3,000 Muslims captured in Srebrenica last year, are denied. Most Bosnian Serb leaders assert that the Muslims killed their own people and shelled their own markets in Sarajevo just to tarnish the Serbs' image.
"We have investigated 30 mass graves with Serbian victims since the start of the war," the pathologist said, "and we have reported our findings to the international court in The Hague. But the court has yet to investigate these graves. We have found 3,500 Serbian victims. We have detailed reports and over 20,000 photographs."
The doctor flicked off the lights of the room and began to show slides of decapitated and mutilated corpses.
"You can see here how this man's eyes were gouged out," he said, lingering over the disfigured face of a young man. "And, look on the belly of this man, you can see how the Muslims carved in the Islamic crescent and star on the skin."
As if the slides were not enough, he also showed videotapes, most taken as he carried out his autopsies. The unease and outrage in the room grew to the desired pitch.
"Here is the face of the Muslims revealed," Maj. Srboljub Jovicinac, a military prosecutor for the Bosnian Serbs, said after the presentation. "What is the world doing about it?"
