Bosnia and Herzegovina

After leaving Dubrovnik we took a bus to the city of Mostar in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Many tourists will take day trips from Dubrovnik to Mostar, mostly to walk the old town, admire the Stari Most or Mostar Bridge and take a trip to the Kravica Waterfall located about an hour from the town. But it wasn’t these noteworthy attractions that tugged at my heart strings, rather it was the beauty of the landscapes as we travelled across the country and the evidence of its tumultuous past. The journey through both Mostar and Sarajevo reminded us of the images we watched on television in the early ‘90s; images of countries being blown away, families torn apart and individual men, women and children dying in mass numbers. Yet, amongst the devastation, there is a fierce sense of pride among the people and a loyalty to the land and their culture.

The drive to Mostar was stunning with farmland nestled between mountains and men and women tending to their gardens. We arrived in early Spring when everything had already been planted and the plants were just beginning to sprout. The gardens and properties were so well maintained. Seeing these humble homes reminded me of my own grandma. She was a farmer’s wife, so hard work was in her bones. I can still picture her tending to her own garden or peonies. I know the value of hard work from my grandma and it was evident that the people of Bosnia have a similar work ethic.

We arrived at our hotel in Mostar during a rain storm so we settled in for a much needed nap. Nearing the end of the day, we awoke and headed out to find the Stari Most, the saught after old bridge. It was raining hard which added to the somber feel of the city. The streets were depressing as many of the buildings were run down, abandoned and tagged with graffiti and bullet holes from the war in the ‘90s.

I felt sad walking the streets but this feeling was short lived. Old Town was immaculate with cobblestone streets lined with shops selling local souvenirs and restaurants offering up traditional dishes and the local lager, the most popular beer sold in Bosnia. It was vibrant in the midst of a dreary atmosphere.

After we meandered for a while, we came to the bridge. Stari Most was built in the 16th century and designed by Mimi Hayrudden, a student of architect Mimi Sinan. The limestone single arch bridge spans the Neretva River for 30 meters. It’s width and height are 4 m and 24 m respectfully and it was considered a masterpiece of Balkan Islamic architecture. Construction began in 1557 and was completed nine years later connecting the two sides of the city.

Unfortunately, this magnificent piece was destroyed during the Croat-Bosniak War in the ‘90s. On November 9, 1993, Slobodan Praljak ordered the destruction of the bridge and after being hit by more than 60 shells it finally collapsed. In 2013, The International Criminal Tribunal stated that the destruction of the bridge was illegal according to The Hague Convention of ‘54. The act itself was a war crime and a crime against humanity. Unfortunately, in 2017, the appeal court reversed the judgement stating the destruction was legal as the bridge was used to transfer military arms therefore making it a legal military target. Today, arguments continue as Croats defend the act of destruction saying the bridge was used strategically by the defence while others believe the destruction was a deliberate act carried out to destroy cultural property as it was a symbol of connecting diverse, peaceful communities.

It really is amazing to see how these Bosnian communities have re-established themselves after such destruction. Both Brent and I remember watching the war unfold far away in Canada and it was very scary. In our early 20s, we had just begun our careers and life was busy, so the war unfortunately was in the “background” for us. We knew it was happening but honestly didn’t fully comprehend it. Unfortunately, the international community had a similar “distant” stance as it provided humanitarian aid but did not confront the Serbian attackers until far too late for most.

Twenty-five years later, standing on the same soil that was used for a battleground, it’s pretty hard not to understand the impact of the atrocities. You just have to look around, talk to the locals and visit the museums to gain some perspective and empathy for those who lost their land and loved ones.

Our experience in Mostar was very similar to that of Sarajevo. We didn’t spend a lot of time in Sarajevo, but it didn’t take much time to know what the people of Sarajevo went through 31 years ago. The elementary school right around the corner of our hotel had plaques posted on the front wall commemorating those who died in the war. I think the heartache is still palpable. Remember, it’s only been a generation since the last war and Sarajevo was also where Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austrian-Hungarian throne, and his wife Sophie were assassinated in June 1914, a historical event that helped spark the beginning of WWI. It seems like everywhere we turned, there was a reminder of it’s tumultuous past.

But I’ve learned that those reminders were quite deliberate in the reconstruction of Sarajevo. Despite criticism from some including residents and academics, Lebbeus Woods, the architect that would be instrumental in the rebuilding of Sarajevo, believed the war experience should be preserved and not forgotten. Others didn’t think that a daily dose of the atrocities would necessarily be healthy. The invasion has been memorialized in statues like the Memorial To Children Killed, the graveyards and cemeteries that lie across the city where once playgrounds and parks occupied the space and the “Sarajevo Rose” where explosions from mortar shells have been painted red to mark the death of three of more people. Everywhere you step, there is evidence of loss, destruction and heartache.

The city was rebuilt in a relatively short amount of time with aid from foreign investors like the State of Qatar, World Bank, the EU and the United States Agency for International Development. Unfortunately, early reconstruction wasn’t always reflective of the cultural identity of its people rather of the investor resulting in a much more generic infrastructure. This was evident riding in our taxi from the bus station. The architecture was a hodgepodge of styles.

Before ‘92, the city under the rule of former Yugoslavia, was ethnically diverse consisting of 44% Bosniaks or Bosnian Muslims, 32% Orthodox Serbs and 17% Catholic Croats all controlled by Josip Tito’s government. After his death in 1980, tensions began to rise resulting in the eventual collapse of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia with Slovenia and Croatia being the first two to leave in ‘91. In 1992, Bosnia and Herzegovina declared independence following a referendum despite the Bosnian Serbs boycotting the outcome. In April of ‘92, the Bosnian Serbs, assisted by the Yugolav People’s Army, the Serbian government and the Croats began shelling Sarajevo which lasted until 1995. Following the war and the signing of the Dayton Peace Agreement, Bosnia and Herzegovina was divided by the Inter-Entity Boundary Line (IEBL) resulting in the Bosnian majority run Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina and the Republika Srpska, dominated by the Serbs. The IEBL runs through the neighbourhood of Dobrinja in Sarajevo therefore splitting the city into two, namely the Federation of Sarajevo dominated by 87% Bosniaks and East Sarajevo of Repuplika Srpsko.

We were unaware of the boundaries during our visit and as visitors we didn’t get a sense of the divide. Instead, we saw both locals and tourists lingering in the cafes spending hours chatting with friends and family. It’s a warm atmosphere and the people were so friendly, including our taxi driver who pointed out significant memorials along the way and our young tour guide who took us to the Bosnian Pyramids an hour away. He told us that he was taught about the war from his parents but he’s not that immersed in it, nor are his friends. He appreciates his history but it doesn’t dictate his life like it would have his parents. Isn’t that the way in life? It tends to take a generation or two to see a brighter future.

We are so grateful for our experience in Bosnia and Herzegovina. It gave us a new perspective on the wars that we watched on the television so many miles away and our empathy grows for our friends back home and the people we’ve met on our travels who have lost their homes, family and friends during this horrible time.

Peace and love everyone.

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