This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jun/28/sarajevo-franz-ferdinand-first-world-war
The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
| Version 0 | Version 1 |
|---|---|
| Sarajevo: city commemorates end to 'a century of conflict', but divisions still run deep | Sarajevo: city commemorates end to 'a century of conflict', but divisions still run deep |
| (35 minutes later) | |
| Caroline and Newman Rimmel, and their friend Tim Jones, are history enthusiasts who visit the Somme almost every year to see the battlefields and monuments of the first world war. But this summer there was only one place to be. The friends, from near Stroud in Gloucestershire, are in Sarajevo, capital of Bosnia, to commemorate the centenary of the moment that sparked the conflict – the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austrian throne, in the city on 28 June 1914. "What happens here today is a commemoration of all the millions of people who died because of the butterfly effect from what happened on this spot," says Jones, standing at the street corner by the Latin bridge over the Miljacka river where the archduke was shot by Gavrilo Princip. "Empires were broken up and families were torn apart." | |
| History didn't stop there for Sarajevo, of course. Buildings nearby are still studded with bullet holes from a more recent war. Between 1992 and 1995 Bosnia was torn apart by conflict between Bosnian Muslims, Serbs and Croats – 100,000 people people died, and Sarajevo was subjected to a 1,425-day siege by Serb troops. The city has been marking the assassination of the archduke in the hope that it will "close the circle" of a century of conflict. Just before midnight, a variety of performances took place on the Latin bridge. At 11am, the approximate time of the assassination, tourists and journalists crowded the streets around the bridge and the banks of the Miljacka beneath the trees that line the river, which shimmer in the summer light. Above looms the mountain ridge from which Serb artillery shelled the city the city during the war. | History didn't stop there for Sarajevo, of course. Buildings nearby are still studded with bullet holes from a more recent war. Between 1992 and 1995 Bosnia was torn apart by conflict between Bosnian Muslims, Serbs and Croats – 100,000 people people died, and Sarajevo was subjected to a 1,425-day siege by Serb troops. The city has been marking the assassination of the archduke in the hope that it will "close the circle" of a century of conflict. Just before midnight, a variety of performances took place on the Latin bridge. At 11am, the approximate time of the assassination, tourists and journalists crowded the streets around the bridge and the banks of the Miljacka beneath the trees that line the river, which shimmer in the summer light. Above looms the mountain ridge from which Serb artillery shelled the city the city during the war. |
| "Sarajevo is the focus: the eyes of the world are on us," says the city's mayor, Ivo Komsic. "We from Sarajevo want to send a message for new hope for new generations and a better future." | "Sarajevo is the focus: the eyes of the world are on us," says the city's mayor, Ivo Komsic. "We from Sarajevo want to send a message for new hope for new generations and a better future." |
| A centrepiece of the commemoration was a concert by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at the Vijecnica building a short walk away, with the president of Austria among the guests. The striking pseudo-Moorish Vijecnica, close to the Latin bridge, is a particularly significant symbol of Sarajevo: it was the city hall where Ferdinand and Sophie attended a reception just before their assassination. It went on to house the national library of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and was shelled by Serb forces in the siege, with the loss of around 2m books. Sarajevans describe how the air was filled with flakes of paper covered in elegant Arabic calligraphy, that turned into ash as they fell. | A centrepiece of the commemoration was a concert by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at the Vijecnica building a short walk away, with the president of Austria among the guests. The striking pseudo-Moorish Vijecnica, close to the Latin bridge, is a particularly significant symbol of Sarajevo: it was the city hall where Ferdinand and Sophie attended a reception just before their assassination. It went on to house the national library of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and was shelled by Serb forces in the siege, with the loss of around 2m books. Sarajevans describe how the air was filled with flakes of paper covered in elegant Arabic calligraphy, that turned into ash as they fell. |
| "The Vijecnica is very important for us, it's a symbol of Sarajevo, and its blend of architectural styles shows that Sarajevo is a meeting point of cultures," says Komsic. | "The Vijecnica is very important for us, it's a symbol of Sarajevo, and its blend of architectural styles shows that Sarajevo is a meeting point of cultures," says Komsic. |
| The building has undergone an 18-year restoration, but conservation experts told the Observer that it remains in a poor state. It is another point of contention in what is still a divided nation. An inscription on the wall in English and the local language (even its name is contested) refer to "Serbian criminals", which Serbia's president and prime minister have called a slur, over which they boycotted the Sarajevo ceremony. | The building has undergone an 18-year restoration, but conservation experts told the Observer that it remains in a poor state. It is another point of contention in what is still a divided nation. An inscription on the wall in English and the local language (even its name is contested) refer to "Serbian criminals", which Serbia's president and prime minister have called a slur, over which they boycotted the Sarajevo ceremony. |
| The war has left not only physical and psychological scars. Bosnia is administratively split into the Federation, largely Muslim and Catholic Croat, and the highly-autonomous Serb Republic, the leader of which, Milorad Dodik, regularly agitates for independence. On 27 June, in the separate, Serb-run district of East Sarajevo, Dodik opened a park named after Gavrilo Princip and graced by a statue of the assassin in a sharp suit. | The war has left not only physical and psychological scars. Bosnia is administratively split into the Federation, largely Muslim and Catholic Croat, and the highly-autonomous Serb Republic, the leader of which, Milorad Dodik, regularly agitates for independence. On 27 June, in the separate, Serb-run district of East Sarajevo, Dodik opened a park named after Gavrilo Princip and graced by a statue of the assassin in a sharp suit. |
| For many Serbs, Princip is a hero of Southern Slav independence. And 28 June was a significant day even before 1914, as the date of the 1389 Battle of Kosovo in which, according to popular understanding if not exact historical fact, a Serb defeat led to centuries of Ottoman oppression. It is this sort of complex history that those organising exhibitions and events must navigate in a highly charged environment: Bosnia has a general election in the autumn, and nationalist rhetoric is expected to rise. | For many Serbs, Princip is a hero of Southern Slav independence. And 28 June was a significant day even before 1914, as the date of the 1389 Battle of Kosovo in which, according to popular understanding if not exact historical fact, a Serb defeat led to centuries of Ottoman oppression. It is this sort of complex history that those organising exhibitions and events must navigate in a highly charged environment: Bosnia has a general election in the autumn, and nationalist rhetoric is expected to rise. |
| A special exhibition at the National Historical Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina, supported by London's Imperial War Museum, opened on 26 June, recording the visit of Ferdinand, the assassination and the wartime in the country. It starts with traveller's descriptions of Sarajevo in 1914, depicting a teeming bazaar of Muslim and Jewish craftsmen alongside a new city full of Viennese-style cafes and parks. | A special exhibition at the National Historical Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina, supported by London's Imperial War Museum, opened on 26 June, recording the visit of Ferdinand, the assassination and the wartime in the country. It starts with traveller's descriptions of Sarajevo in 1914, depicting a teeming bazaar of Muslim and Jewish craftsmen alongside a new city full of Viennese-style cafes and parks. |
| "The idea is not to concentrate on one or the other side of the story, but to have Sarajevo as the main protagonist," said museum director Elma Hasimbegovic. "Franz Ferdinand isn't the main character, and we're not concentrating on the national history. Bosnians fought on both sides, and we want to see how ordinary people were affected by the war, struggling for survival." | "The idea is not to concentrate on one or the other side of the story, but to have Sarajevo as the main protagonist," said museum director Elma Hasimbegovic. "Franz Ferdinand isn't the main character, and we're not concentrating on the national history. Bosnians fought on both sides, and we want to see how ordinary people were affected by the war, struggling for survival." |
| The museum is a victim of post-war ethnic politics, as it receives no regular funding from the country, the federation government, the canton administration or the city. Nineteen years after the Bosnian conflict ended, it and seven other national institutions are left in a legal and financial limbo – there is no national culture ministry, as culture is such a contested issue between ethnic politicians. Those politicians are the focus of anger on all sides, in a country in which unemployment is reported to be more than 40%, and progress towards the EU has been stalled by ethnic infighting. Many people yearn for the certainties and peace of a united Yugoslavia. | The museum is a victim of post-war ethnic politics, as it receives no regular funding from the country, the federation government, the canton administration or the city. Nineteen years after the Bosnian conflict ended, it and seven other national institutions are left in a legal and financial limbo – there is no national culture ministry, as culture is such a contested issue between ethnic politicians. Those politicians are the focus of anger on all sides, in a country in which unemployment is reported to be more than 40%, and progress towards the EU has been stalled by ethnic infighting. Many people yearn for the certainties and peace of a united Yugoslavia. |
| "The politicians should all be sent to Goli Otok!" says Milan Bosanac, 79, a Bosnian Serb, referring to a Communist-era gulag on a parched Adriatic island. "Everything will get worse. While [communist dictator] Tito was alive, everything was great, everybody had a job. Now there are hundreds of thousands out of work, and there is nothing for the old." | "The politicians should all be sent to Goli Otok!" says Milan Bosanac, 79, a Bosnian Serb, referring to a Communist-era gulag on a parched Adriatic island. "Everything will get worse. While [communist dictator] Tito was alive, everything was great, everybody had a job. Now there are hundreds of thousands out of work, and there is nothing for the old." |
| Bosanac's life was affected by conflict from an early age: in the second world war his family were Yugoslav communist partisans fighting the Nazis and their allies. After war broke out in the region in 1941, his father died in the Croatian-run Jasenovac concentration camp, and his family fled to the Kozara mountains in north-eastern Bosnia. One day, he lost them in the snow, and was rescued by a woman who looked after him for several months. | Bosanac's life was affected by conflict from an early age: in the second world war his family were Yugoslav communist partisans fighting the Nazis and their allies. After war broke out in the region in 1941, his father died in the Croatian-run Jasenovac concentration camp, and his family fled to the Kozara mountains in north-eastern Bosnia. One day, he lost them in the snow, and was rescued by a woman who looked after him for several months. |
| Walking stick at his side, Bosanac sits in his flat in Grbavica, a Sarajevo suburb once largely Serb but now predominantly Muslim. The family lived in the district throughout the war, retreating to the basement when fighting intensified, and for a period having to prove their nationality to fanatical Serb soldiers. They left for homes in southern Bosnia and Montenegro when the district "changed hands" after the war but, says Bosanac's great-niece, Stasha, returned after some years "to be strangers in our own city, rather than strangers in a strange place". | Walking stick at his side, Bosanac sits in his flat in Grbavica, a Sarajevo suburb once largely Serb but now predominantly Muslim. The family lived in the district throughout the war, retreating to the basement when fighting intensified, and for a period having to prove their nationality to fanatical Serb soldiers. They left for homes in southern Bosnia and Montenegro when the district "changed hands" after the war but, says Bosanac's great-niece, Stasha, returned after some years "to be strangers in our own city, rather than strangers in a strange place". |
| Her daughter, born almost a decade after the war ended, is also affected. Last year, Muslim children at her school refused to play with her for a period during the runup to Bosnia's first postwar census, as nationalist rhetoric increased for children as well as adults to identify themselves as Muslim, Serb or Croat. | Her daughter, born almost a decade after the war ended, is also affected. Last year, Muslim children at her school refused to play with her for a period during the runup to Bosnia's first postwar census, as nationalist rhetoric increased for children as well as adults to identify themselves as Muslim, Serb or Croat. |
| The slogan for last week's events was "a century of peace after a century of war". There are few countries in the world for which this is more apt, and even for some set on involved in preserving the country's past, the anniversary is a painful reminder. | The slogan for last week's events was "a century of peace after a century of war". There are few countries in the world for which this is more apt, and even for some set on involved in preserving the country's past, the anniversary is a painful reminder. |
| "The Latin bridge is a symbol of war, and I am so sorry for Sarajevo that the city is seen as a symbol of war," says Mirzah Foco, a Muslim official at Bosnia's commission to preserve national heritage, on the sidelines of a conference in Sarajevo. "I was in the army and I want to forget everything that happened to me. Believe me – it was a nightmare." | "The Latin bridge is a symbol of war, and I am so sorry for Sarajevo that the city is seen as a symbol of war," says Mirzah Foco, a Muslim official at Bosnia's commission to preserve national heritage, on the sidelines of a conference in Sarajevo. "I was in the army and I want to forget everything that happened to me. Believe me – it was a nightmare." |