Category Archives: Genocide

“I stand by the mothers of Srebrenica
I know that Chetniks are a violent herd
I think that the entire world should know that
Serbs tried to ensure the truth was blurred”
― Aida Mandic, Justice For Bosnia and Herzegovina

There are stories that have the power to grip our minds and hearts, stories that force us to confront uncomfortable truths we’d rather avoid. One such story emerged from the pages of the enlightening book, Bourgeois Virtues, and has lingered in my thoughts ever since. It transports us back to July 15, 1995, when a chilling sequence of events unfolded in Srebrenica, forever tarnishing the legacy of a Dutch force operating under the United Nations’ command.

In an astonishing turn of events, the Dutch troops, stationed there specifically to prevent such atrocities, handed over a staggering number of 8,000 Muslim men and boys to the Bosnian Serbs. What makes this episode even more bewildering is that it happened without a single shot being fired. Instead of resisting the Serb demands, the Dutch forces, fearing their own casualties, willingly complied. It was a decision that would haunt them for years to come.

The gravity of the aftermath cannot be understated. A massacre ensued, claiming the lives of those 8,000 men and boys, as well as numerous women, children, and even infants in arms. This horrifying event stands as the largest massacre in Europe since World War II. Yet, what struck me the most was the lack of remorse or shame exhibited by both the Dutch army and the majority of the Dutch people. In fact, they vehemently denied any responsibility for the tragedy, instead pointing fingers at others.

Blame was cast upon the Canadians, who had previously controlled Srebrenica but had subsequently handed over control to the Dutch. It was argued that the Canadians should bear the burden of blame for what unfolded. The French, too, were held accountable for failing to provide necessary air cover. The Dutch commander himself was hailed as having made the right call, asserting that he chose not to open fire to avoid Dutch casualties. He had placed his trust in the Serb commander’s promise that none of the surrendered men and boys would be harmed; they would only undergo scrutiny to identify potential war criminals among them.

This narrative, however, raises a multitude of questions. Shouldn’t the Dutch forces have prioritized their duty to protect innocent lives over their own self-preservation? Why did they choose to believe the assurances of a known aggressor? How could they reconcile their actions with the devastating consequences that unfolded?

The Srebrenica massacre forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that even those tasked with upholding peace and justice can falter in the face of unimaginable circumstances. The Dutch army’s refusal to acknowledge their role in the tragedy speaks to a collective denial, a desperate attempt to absolve themselves of guilt. Yet, true progress and healing can only begin when we face the truth head-on, acknowledging our mistakes and working towards rectifying them.

This story, though distressing, serves as a reminder that we must hold accountable those entrusted with protecting human lives. It calls upon us to reflect on the complex web of factors that contribute to such failures and ensure that history does not repeat itself. As we delve deeper into the pages of our collective past, let us learn from these haunting stories and strive to build a future where the value of every life is unwaveringly upheld.

Unraveling the Disturbing Absence of a Narrative: Lessons from Srebrenica

The Dutch commander’s decision to comply with the Serb demands, avoiding potential casualties among his own forces, is often seen as the “right” choice. After all, he couldn’t have known that the Serbs would unleash a massacre, killing those 8,000 people. However, when examining the context, it becomes evident that certain aspects should have raised alarm bells.

The Serbs had a notorious reputation for their lack of honesty and had been conducting “ethnic cleansing” operations throughout the region for years. Given these circumstances, anyone who had pondered the situation for even a short while could have predicted the Serbs’ intentions. Moreover, the presence of UN forces in Bosnia was precisely due to the possibility of such atrocities. The Dutch commander’s priority seemed to be safeguarding his troops rather than preventing a potential genocide of Bosnian Muslims. This begs the question: if this army was unwilling to accept any casualties, could it truly be considered an army?

Reflecting on this narrative, it’s hard not to consider the contrasting reactions that would have ensued had an American commander been in charge. Outrage would have reverberated worldwide, with the American people demanding justice and the commander facing court-martial. The phrase “heads will roll” would have taken a literal meaning. However, let us momentarily set this aside and focus on a deeper aspect.

We, as humans, construct narratives to make sense of the world and our place within it. These stories allow us to explain ourselves to ourselves. From a vantage point across the Atlantic, the prevailing European narrative appears to be one of self-righteousness, boasting that they are the champions who will forever halt genocide. Having triumphed in World War II, they claim to have built the world’s first genuinely anti-racist society, positioning themselves above the Americans, Russians, and Chinese.

What strikes me about the events in Srebrenica and their aftermath is the absence of any coherent narrative. It lacks a compelling story, consisting merely of feeble, self-justifying excuses akin to those uttered by a petty thief caught shoplifting. There’s no substance, no shape, no arc. It’s as if Gertrude Stein’s famous phrase, “there’s no there-there,” perfectly encapsulates the situation. Curiosity led me to embark on a Google search, hoping to find a cohesive Dutch narrative, but to no avail.

I couldn’t help but wonder if, with enough searching, I would stumble upon a metanarrative for pacifism—a story that would rationalize the idea that regardless of the consequences for others, it is vital to ensure one’s own safety. Surely, such a narrative could exist, or perhaps another narrative that would reinterpret the same facts. The Germans, for instance, managed to create several narratives that encapsulate Nazism, even though they may not be entirely true. Similarly, the French skillfully crafted a narrative of a valiant resistance movement, overlooking the collaboration of certain individuals during the occupation. Criticism and scrutiny of these narratives have been relatively subdued.

The absence of a narrative, or rather the apparent lack of a need for one, is truly astonishing. It hints at a deeply rooted conviction that self-preservation is paramount, with an assumption that everyone shares this sentiment. It implies that there is no other way to feel and that those who claim otherwise are deceitful or misguided. Diverging from this mindset is deemed wrong. Apologies if I’m rambling, but this observation has troubled me for years.

For quite some time, I’ve heard claims that the US intervened in Bosnia and did what the UN failed to do. Now, the reason behind these statements becomes clearer. I must admit, it brings me a sense of relief to know that the American people, indeed, hold a different perspective. Because the absence of a need for a narrative to justify what should have been an unequivocal horror is far more disconcerting than the combined fears of fascism and communism.

“–I turn around and on the screen I see Chetniks (Serb Army) executing a group of men. Among them, my son, Azmir. I’m watching, but I’m not believing my own eyes. My heart stops, my jaw stiffens. Yes, it is my Azmir. They are shooting at his back. My child falls. Barefoot. He wasn’t even seventeen years old yet!” –Hatidža Mehmedović

Never forget Srebrenica, July 1995!!! #8372.