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Al Jazeera
3 days ago
- Politics
- Al Jazeera
Across 100 kilometres, they walk where Srebrenica's dead once ran
Thirty years later, one man joins thousands on a three-day journey along the once-deadly path of remembrance in Bosnia. More than 7,000 people arrived in a tiny village in Bosnia to commemorate victims [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] More than 7,000 people arrived in a tiny village in Bosnia to commemorate victims [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] Nezuk and Potocari, Bosnia and Herzegovina – Thirty years ago, thousands of Bosniak men and boys emerged emaciated from the forests surrounding the quiet Bosnian village of Nezuk. Their gaunt faces and skeletal frames told only part of the story – visible hints of a far deeper horror that would fully emerge only after the mass graves of the 1995 Srebrenica genocide were found. Today, Sejfudin Dizdarevic, 48, lives a life worlds apart from the desperate men who once fled through these woods. But he and thousands of others have just spent three days walking the same path. 'Knowing this history, it makes you humble,' Dizdarevic said about his participation in the annual remembrance walk called the Peace March. 'Knowing that you are going [on] the path [where] not only people were killed, but also [that those] who survived ... were hiding exactly in the spot [in] which you are marching now.' A banner flies in the village of Nezuk, where the march began on July 8 [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] In July 1995, the town of Srebrenica and surrounding villages fell to Bosnian Serb forces, whose nationalist and territorial ambitions were emboldened by the dissolution of the former Yugoslavia. Bosniak males, who were being hunted, fled the area, crossing the thickly forested slopes of eastern Bosnia for days and even weeks on end in a journey now referred to as 'the death march'. During their trek, they evaded deceptive calls by Bosnian Serb forces, who tried to lure them to surrender with false promises of safety. Many of the Bosniak men and boys saw their counterparts slaughtered en masse and were forced to wade through the pungent odour of their corpses stiffening under the blazing July heat. Since 2005, Bosnians and people from around the world have been embarking on the three-day, 100-kilometre (62-mile) walk from Nezuk to the Srebrenica Genocide Memorial in Potocari, where newly identified victims are still laid to rest each year. Dizdarevic, a Bosnian war refugee who fled to Germany in 1992, has been returning to take part in the march for the last four years and organising groups of nationals from other countries to join him. While Dizdarevic, who is Bosniak, was not personally affected by the Srebrenica genocide, some of his family members were killed during Bosnia's three-year war from 1992 to 1995. 'My intention is to show respect for those who were killed in the genocide,' he explained. The marchers walked along rolling green hills and stony slopes [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] The marchers walked along rolling green hills and stony slopes [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] The first day of the march this year, July 8, was unbearably hot, the sun beating down on the nearly 7,000 people beginning their days-long journey. Spectators lined the march's path, stepping out into their front yards to offer quiet acts of solidarity – holding signs commemorating the genocide, handing out food, and passing bottles of water to the participants. People wore coordinated outfits, many featuring slogans in remembrance of the genocide. Dizdarevic's group of 40 included Bosniaks, Germans, Turks, Americans and a Dutch nurse who had first come to Srebrenica during the war with Doctors Without Borders. Dizdarevic, centre, and his group during the march [Courtesy of Sejfudin Dizdarevic] As a veteran of the march, Dizdarevic advised his group to begin physically training as early as February, but he struggled to prepare them emotionally. 'When you talk to some people who survived genocide and they tell you your story ... there is no way to prepare for that,' he explained. The scars of his country's past still resonate deeply with Dizdarevic, and he feels a duty to raise awareness about it. It's what drives him to organise others to take part. On that first day, Dizdarevic heard a swirl of languages being spoken around him, which underscored just how far people had come to show their solidarity. 'It's very important to me that the people will learn the lessons of this genocide because if we don't draw the right lessons from this genocide, [the victims] were killed in vain,' he said. As the day stretched into late afternoon, and the marchers continued across rolling green hills and stony slopes, the sweltering heat suddenly gave way to unexpected showers and powerful gusts of wind. But Dizdarevic and his team were prepared for all weather conditions. Eventually, night fell, and the group arrived in the village of Josanica, where they camped for their first overnight stop. As is common among marchers, Dizdarevic arranged for his group to stay at the home of Srebrenica genocide survivors – some slept inside, while others pitched tents in a yard wet from the rain. Their bellies full from food handed out by strangers and charities supporting the marchers, they had only one resolve: to complete the walk. Dizdarevic met two survivors who had hidden from Bosnian Serb forces in the forests [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] Dizdarevic met two survivors who had hidden from Bosnian Serb forces in the forests [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] After a night of rain, the trail was slick with mud. As the group traversed the mountain of Udrc in the Dinaric Alps, Dizdarevic explained, through shallow breaths, that the muddy conditions were slowing them down. It was there, on the mountain, that he met two survivors of the genocide - men who had hidden in the forests from Bosnian Serb forces in the summer of 1995. Hasan Hasanovic and Mevludin Hrnjic, both young men at the time, spent 80 days in hiding. Hasanovic was just 19 and lost his father and twin brother in the killings. Years later, they were found in mass graves. Hrnjic, then 24, lost his father and four of his brothers. He was the only male in his family to emerge from the woods to safety and to his mother. He later told his story in a book he authored, Witness to the Srebrenica Genocide. 'That was a very emotional moment for me,' Dizdarevic said, about walking with the two survivors where they had run for their lives three decades earlier. As they walked together, he tried to put himself in their shoes, but Dizdarevic was sure it was just a glimpse of the hardships they went through. 'Look, we have all [the] logistical support. There are people from the Red Cross helping us to get up the mountain [with ropes],' he said. It's already 'very, very hard', without having to worry about being killed, or having no food or shelter, he added. The marchers walked mostly in silence, their heads bowed. Then, Dizdarevic encountered his most difficult moment of the day: walking through the so-called 'death valley' in Kamenica, where smaller mass graves had been found along the Drina River basin. 'You cannot comprehend how massive this was and what destruction [it caused] not only for the people killed, but also for their families,' he reflected. The gravesites there were found near the homes of Bosniaks, in their yards or in nearby meadows. Now, memorial plaques honour the Srebrenica victims at several of the sepulchres. At the end of the second day, Dizdarevic and his group once again camped at a genocide survivor's home, this time in the village of Pubode. People pray among the gravestones of Srebrenica victims [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] People pray among the gravestones of Srebrenica victims [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] On the third and final day, Dizdarevic and most of those around him could not contain their emotions as they reached Potocari, the site of the memorial to Srebrenica victims. In the grassy valley dotted with row upon row of white marble tombstones, are the remnants of the gray slab concrete buildings where the UN Dutch battalion had been stationed to protect Bosniaks during the war. But in July 1995, the battalion was overrun by Bosnian Serb forces, leading to the bloodshed that ensued. Reaching the site where thousands were brutally killed brought 'overwhelming sadness' to Dizdarevic. 'It was very emotional,' he said. But Dizdarevic was also awash with relief – not only from the physical toll of the march being over, but also from the emotional weight of having walked in the footsteps of victims who never made it to safety. 'It was very important for every one of us to finish this march,' he said. 'This remembrance should lead to a prevention of potential future genocide.' As he and his companions set up one final camp in Potocari, before the memorial event there the next day on the 30th anniversary of the Srebrenica massacre, Dizdarevic pondered what justice for its victims looks like. 'The search for justice ... is a very difficult process ... Even more difficult is that the Serbian society ... [is] very in favour of this genocide,' he said. 'I am afraid that Serbian society – they did not undergo this catharsis [of] saying, 'Yes, we did this and we are guilty, sorry.' [On the] contrary, they are very proud of it ... or they deny it.' In the years since, the International Court of Justice and courts in the Balkans have sentenced almost 50 Bosnian Serb wartime officials collectively to more than 700 years in prison for the genocide. But many of the accused remain unpunished, and genocide denial is rampant, especially among political leaders in Serbia and the Serb-majority entity of Republika Srpska. Milorad Dodik, the entity's current leader, whose image appears on billboards flashing the three-finger salute, a symbol of Serb nationalism, has dismissed the Srebrenica genocide as a 'fabricated myth'. The group arrived in Potocari a day before the 30th anniversary event [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] Still, Dizdarevic has held on to hope, a feeling renewed during the march as he watched countless young people take part, many of them born after the Bosnian war. 'What is, for me, very important, [is] that the young men and women who participate in this march understand ... they should play an active role in the prevention of future genocide by creating a positive environment in their societies,' he said. On July 11, the day after the march ended, Dizdarevic and his group joined thousands in Potocari to mark the sombre anniversary, where the remains of seven newly identified victims were laid to rest. There, they stood in solemn silence as the coffins were lowered into freshly dug graves, soon to be marked with new marble headstones, joining the more than 6,000 others already laid to rest. Reporting for this article was made possible by the NGO Islamic Relief. A woman sits next to the gravestone of a relative at the Srebrenica Genocide Memorial in Potocari [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera] A woman sits next to the gravestone of a relative at the Srebrenica Genocide Memorial in Potocari [Urooba Jamal/Al Jazeera]
LeMonde
4 days ago
- Politics
- LeMonde
In Srebrenica, 30 years after the genocide, the 'vicious circle' of denial continues
"Welcome to the Las Vegas of Bosnia, we attract at least as much attention [as the American city]." On Wednesday, July 9, the mayor of Srebrenica, Milos Vucic, displayed this peculiar sense of humor, two days before the July 11 commemorations marking the 30 th anniversary of the 1995 genocide in his city. This Bosnian Serb, who is also a cousin of Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic, said he would not participate in the ceremonies meant to honor the more than 8,000 Muslim Bosniaks killed in a matter of days by the forces of Serb General Ratko Mladic, in what is considered the worst massacre of civilians in Europe since the end of World War II. "I was not invited, and I do not see why I should go when my deputy [a Bosniak] isn't coming here," said the 37-year-old official during a small counter-ceremony he organized in a predominantly Serb neighborhood of his municipality. Decorated with Serbian flags and set to the Serbian national anthem, the event was dedicated solely to Serb victims of the war, which claimed around 100,000 lives overall between 1992 and 1995. "Serbs were killed in much more horrific ways than the Bosniaks, for example by decapitation, as seen in certain Muslim countries, but have you ever read anything about them in the international press?" Vucic exclaimed, criticizing what he described as a "double standard" from the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY), which convicted Mladic of genocide in 2021. It mattered little that the Serb victims commemorated on Wednesday by a few dozen Serbs gathered around the mayor of Srebrenica did not die on that precise date, or that the local commander of the Bosniak forces, whom they accuse of being responsible for their deaths, has been systematically acquitted by international and Bosnian courts. The main objective was to stage a counter-event ahead of July 11, which is expected to draw tens of thousands of people this year. Several senior European officials, such as European Council President Antonio Costa and French Minister for European Affairs Benjamin Haddad, are expected to attend in this eastern Balkan town.
India.com
6 days ago
- India.com
Tied Up, Shot, Left To Rot – And Still Alive: How Three Survivors Crawled Out Of Genocide In Bosnia's Srebrenica
Srebrenica genocide: They were just teenagers. One loved geography. Another still had pears in his hands when the shooting started. A third searched the forest for a shoelace to stop a boy from bleeding to death. Thirty years ago, they ran. Through woods crackling with gunfire. Over bodies that still moved. Away from a town whose name the world would only come to whisper in shame – Srebrenica (in Bosnia and Herzegovina). This was not a war. This was a hunt. They ran from the narrow valleys of eastern Bosnia to the charred hills of Kamenica. They ran when the United Nations told them they were safe. They ran when the world looked away. They ran when their fathers were shot, when their brothers disappeared and when their childhood homes burned behind them. Nedzad Avdic was 17 when the shelling began. He once studied geography for fun. Now he studied it for survival. He walked east to west with the trees, followed the moss and tracked the stars until there were none. On July 11, 1995, he disappeared into a crowd of thousands in the woods near Susnjari. His father vanished minutes later. He never saw him again. Hajrudin Mesic fled with two brothers. One was shot in both arms. The other, Safet, was executed. His body was never found. Hajrudin kept moving, even after his shoes shredded to threads. He picked wild pears for strength and held them in his bleeding hands. They saved no one. But they reminded him he was still human. Emir Bektic drank from a mud-stained creek just before he and his father were ambushed. He woke up hours later under a tree, alone. His father was gone. So were the others. He does not remember how he survived the massacre, just that he did. That and the taste of sand in his mouth. They walked day and night. They dodged bullets and landmines and saw children being executed for asking for help. Some were told to clap before dying. Some rode trucks filled with screams and urine. Some chewed through rope to free strangers. They buried nothing. They carried everything. They were supposed to die. But they did not. The world would later call it genocide – 8,000 Bosniak men and boys murdered by Bosnian Serb forces over a few July days in 1995. Their bodies dumped in mass graves. Women and girls raped. Thousands displaced, destroyed and forgotten. But not by these men. Today, they carry memories. They carry voices. They have written books. They have testified in The Hague. They have buried fathers, brothers, cousins and neighbours. They have returned to Srebrenica. To Sarajevo. To the schools where they now teach. They are not here to tell stories. They are here to warn the world what forgetting looks like.
Edinburgh Reporter
11-07-2025
- General
- Edinburgh Reporter
Thirtieth anniversary marked with commemoration at the Botanics
Scotland marked the 30th anniversary of the genocide in Srebrenica on Friday with a solemn commemoration at the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh (RBGE). The event, organised by genocide education charity Beyond Srebrenica, honoured the memory of more than 8,300 Bosniak men and boys murdered in Srebrenica in July 1995 and reflect on the broader Bosnian war that claimed over 100,000 lives and displaced more than 2 million people – including thousands who sought refuge in the UK. The youngest of the victims was two days old. Sabina Kadić-Mackenzie, chair of Beyond Srebrenica and survivor of the war in Bosnia, said: 'This tree carries deep symbolic meaning – and chilling parallels to the human experience of war and genocide Like so many Bosnians, it found a way to survive despite everything that was done to erase it. 'On the 30th anniversary of the genocide, we remember not just the loss and horror – but the endurance, and the hope it takes to recover from the rubble of war. This tree now thrives in Scotland, just as so many of us Bosnians have. Its roots now touch Scottish soil, linking our two nations in remembrance and in hope. 'The spruce stands as a living memorial to both environmental and human resilience – and Scotland's quiet but enduring connection to Bosnia's story.' During the ceremony, guests tied white ribbons to the tree – a quiet act of solidarity and remembrance. Sabina, who is a survivor of the war, continued: 'This Spruce is more than a tree. It is a living memorial to all that we lost, and all that we refused to let be destroyed. It stands as a symbol of our survival, and of the profound connection between Bosnia and Scotland forged in the most painful of times. 'The tree stands now not only as a symbol of ecological resilience but also as a quiet testament to the resilience and grace of the Bosnian people who, like it, endured immense suffering yet refused to disappear.' Speaking at the ceremony, Simon Milne MBE, Regius Keeper of the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh, said: 'Rare and resilient, this tree is now listed as endangered. It survives in only a handful of shrinking mountain refuges in Bosnia and Herzegovina and Serbia. Its story mirrors that of this region – scarred by war, threatened by change, but still standing. 'Today, the tree grows far from its homeland, in botanic gardens and conservation sites across Europe – thanks to the work of organisations like the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh. But like memory, it cannot thrive without care. As we protect these rare trees, let us also protect the truth.' The commemorative event was hosted by Beyond Srebrenica, a Scotland-based organisation working to ensure that the memory of the genocide endures and its lessons are never forgotten. 11th July 2025 Royal Botanic Gardens Edinburgh, Scotland. Elsa (11) and Olive (8) Kadic-Mackenzie , at the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh, pictured as white ribbons are tied to a group of Picea omorika tree, a rare and ancient conifer native to Bosnia and Herzegovina. Pic Phil Wilkinson / Beyond Srebrenica 11th July 2025 Royal Botanic Gardens Edinburgh, Scotland. Elsa (11) and Olive (8) Kadic-Mackenzie , at the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh, pictured as white ribbons are tied to a group of Picea omorika tree, a rare and ancient conifer native to Bosnia and Herzegovina. Pic Phil Wilkinson 11th July 2025 Royal Botanic Gardens Edinburgh, Scotland. Sabina Kadic-Mackenzie with daughters Elsa (11) and Olive (8) at the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh, pictured as white ribbons are tied to a group of Picea omorika tree, a rare and ancient conifer native to Bosnia and Herzegovina. They joined charity Beyond Srebrenica and members of the Bosnian community to mark the 30th anniversary of the Bosnian Genocide in Srebrenica. 11 July is the UN international day of remembrance and reflection for the victims of the genocide. Pic Phil Wilkinson / Beyond Srebrenica Like this: Like Related
Euronews
11-07-2025
- Politics
- Euronews
Remembering genocide in Srebrenica through the lens of Kristian Skeie
"Our memories are not very good. We forget quickly." This 11 July marks three decades since more than 8,000 Bosniak men and boys from Srebrenica - a small town in eastern Bosnia - were systematically executed over the course of several days. It was the worst atrocity on European soil since World War II. For Swiss-based photographer Kristian Skeie, the anniversary is not just about remembrance — it's a reminder of the need to keep paying attention. His ongoing project, which he started 15 years ago, documents the lasting impact of the genocide: families gathering at mass graves for annual burials, children walking the same hills where their fathers were executed, survivors retracing the now-ritualised 120km march from Tuzla to Srebrenica. 'This project is all about how people find strength,' he tells Euronews Culture, 'or how people manage to pull themselves together after having experienced a genocide, and then continue their lives afterwards.' The genocide in Srebrenica, which took place in July 1995 near the end of the Bosnian War, was part of a broader campaign of ethnic cleansing carried out by Bosnian Serb forces. 'The Bosnian Serb population, led politically by Radovan Karadžić and militarily by Ratko Mladić - with support from Slobodan Milošević in Serbia - wanted to become part of a Greater Serbia,' Skeie explains. 'They were unhappy with the breakup of Yugoslavia, and what followed was a campaign to get rid of the Bosniaks entirely. In a very simplified way that's what was going on." Declared a UN safe area, Srebrenica was under the protection of Dutch UNPROFOR peacekeepers. But on 11 July, Mladić and his troops entered the town, separating men from women and children. While the latter were to be deported, the men and boys were taken to execution sites to be killed. One man featured in Skeie's project is Ramiz Nukić, a survivor of the genocide who spent years scouring the land around his home in search of bones - driven by the hope of finding his murdered relatives. 'He realised that if he had this craving to find the remains of his family members… surely others will have the same craving." By the time of his death two years ago, Nukić had located the remains of nearly 300 people. Every year on 11 July, newly identified remains are still being buried. 'These are real burials,' Skeie says. 'It's up to the families to decide if they want to bury their loved ones that year … sometimes they only have a finger, an arm." On Friday, seven victims - including two 19-year-olds - will be laid to rest in a collective funeral at the memorial centre's cemetery near Srebrenica. For Skeie, his work is not about providing easy answers. His images are meant to prompt reflection, discomfort, memory. 'This is the kind of photography that needs text as well,' he says. 'You can tell a lot with a picture, but I do not believe you can tell everything. Not this kind of photography anyway.' He adds: "I think looking at old photos that documented the war itself is incredibly valuable. But in a way, what we're doing now is also saying: we're not giving up on this. We're continuing to go back and see what's happening here. But as we're seeing elsewhere now - we can talk about Gaza, Sudan - it just keeps happening. It goes on all the time." Still, he holds onto the belief that bearing witness matters - even if change is slow. 'It's more important than ever before. But at the same time, you wonder: does it make a difference? Because it keeps happening all the time anyway. But I do choose to think that it does perhaps remind people… we gotta find better solutions. We cannot have a society like this. I have children. I don't want them to grow up like this.' Thirty years on, Bosnia remains divided along ethnic lines, while both Bosnian Serb leaders and neighbouring Serbia continue to reject the classification of the Srebrenica massacre as genocide, despite rulings from two UN courts. Serbia's President Aleksandar Vučić expressed condolences on X while calling the Srebrenica massacre a 'terrible crime.' Vučić added that 'we cannot change the past but we must change the future.' Watch the video in the web player above to hear directly from Kristian Skeie.
