Iain Guest

Iain founded AP in 2001 after many years of writing about and working with civil society in countries in conflict. He was a Geneva-based correspondent for the London-based Guardian and International Herald Tribune (1976-1987); authored a book on the disappearances in Argentina; fronted several BBC documentaries; served as spokesperson for the UNHCR operation in Cambodia (1992-1993) and the UN humanitarian operation in Haiti (2004); served as a Senior Fellow at the US Institute of Peace (1996-7); and conducted missions to Rwanda and Bosnia for the UN, USAID and UNHCR. Iain recently stepped down as an adjunct professor at Georgetown’s School of Foreign Service, where he taught human rights.



On Trial

17 Jun

The Hague, Netherlands, June 17: Courtroom number 3 at the International Criminal Tribunal in the Hague is a modern, functional room, like the offices of the ICMP in Tuzla. Visitors sit in a gallery, which is arranged into three tiers for the press, “VIPs” and others.

The court operates behind a thick glass panel. The only concessions to the grandeur of law are the vivid red gowns of the three trial judges (who are from China, the Ukraine and Argentina) and the elegant white cravats and black robes of the two teams for the prosecution and defense. Four members of the registry (which administers the tribunal) sit ranged in front of the judges.

Earlier today, in another courtroom, the Tribunal witnessed the opening salvos by Slobodan Milosevic, the former President of Yugoslavia, in his own defense. Milosevic is certainly the most distinguished prisoner in the Hague but he has consistently denounced the legitimacy of the Tribunal, so the decision was taken to allow him to defend himself, in an effort to ensure his participation. He has seized the opportunity to mount a theatrical and histrionic defense, bullying judges, scoring political points, and mocking the entire process.

This morning, Milosevic opened his defense by demanding that hundreds of witnesses be called in his defense, including Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, Gerhard Schroeder and General Wesley Clark. Instead of going into contortions over this latest taunt, the judges cleverly reminded Milosevic that he had 150 days to lay out his defense. This leaves him with the daunting task of making his selection, and justifying it in writing.

Opinions are divided on whether the Tribunal’s credibility has been reduced or enhanced by Milosevic’s antics. Some feel he has turned the thing into a circus and gravely discredited the gravitas of the court. The previous president, a British judge, had to resign with a brain tumor, and there are some who say that the strain contributed to his illness.

But one Serbian I speak to (who hates Milosevic for what he has done to her country) insists that anything is permissible when a man is on trial for genocide. She also says that the personal strain on Milosevic (who has a weak heart) is extraordinary and she speaks of him almost reverently, as a “superman” for taking on his defense.

This is a woman who marched for his downfall in Belgrade. Her view is that we should not be diverted by Milosevic’s theatrical performance, any more than we should be lulled by the red robes and legal mumbo jumbo. For all its mannerisms, a law court is a mirror of the real world. People are fighting for their life here, just as they did on the hills above Srebrenica. It’s just that the surroundings are so different. I’m not so sure.


Reversal of Fortune: A survivor
from Srebrenica watches the trial
of Slobodan Milosevic at the
Hague Tribunal.

In courtroom 3, a trial chamber of three judges is hearing a motion by Vidoje Blagejovic, who was a senior commander in the Bosnian Serb Army that oversaw the Srebrenica massacre. Blagejovic has asked to give a statement, and this trial chamber is hearing his request. This is the reason for my presence. It will, I hope, round off my own short portrait of the Srebrenica tragedy.

In contrast to the Milosevic hearing this morning, which attracted a huge audience, I count two journalists, one Very Important Person, and four unimportant persons like myself. Two are related to people working at the tribunal. Whatever his role at Srebrenica, Blagejovic clearly does not attract much attention from the outside world, but I’m feeling quite keyed up at the prospect of seeing in person one of those who desecrated the valley I have just visited.

The bald facts about the Hague Tribunal are as follows: it was established in May 1993 by the UN Security Council, following the Serbs’ first major assault on Srebrenica, as part of a political package that also established Srebrenica as one of several UN “safe areas.” During its 11 years in operation, the Tribunal has indicted a total of 112 individuals in connection with the entire wars in the former Yugoslavia. 45 have been arrested, 50 are in custody and 25 are still loose. (The rest have been released, died, or had indictments dropped). The Tribunal has cost well over a billion dollars.

13 persons have been indicted in connection with Srebrenica, and six are still on the run. They include the High Priest of the Srebrenica blood-letting, the former head of the Bosnian Serb Army, General Ratko Mladic, and the Bosnian Serb civilian leader, Radovan Karadzic, who are both living in Serbia.

Also indicted but on the loose is Ljubisa Beara, who was head of the Bosnian Serb Army’s security administration and played Adolf Eichman to Mladic’s Hilter, organizing the logistics of the massacre. Several notable Serb paramilitary leaders, like Milan Lukic, a handsome psychopath from Visegrad who went on a murderous spree in Srebrencia in July 1995, have not yet even been publicly indicted by the Tribunal.

Of those in detention in connection with Srebrenica, only one, Nasir Oric, is a Muslim. Oric organized the Muslim defense of Srebrenica between 1992 and 1995, until he was withdrawn shortly before the collapse. He is a hero to the Muslim survivors, but he is charged with overseeing atrocities against Serbs in the Srebrenica area in late 1992 and early 1993.

The Serbs who are in detention, like Blagejovic, are mainly senior army officers from the DRINA Corps of the Bosnian Serb Army, which operated in Eastern Bosnia and besieged Srebrenica. The DRINA Corps Commander, General Krstic, has already been sentenced by the Tribunal to genocide. Blagejovic himself commanded the Bratunac Brigade of the DRINA Corps and was directly under Krstic in the chain of command. The registrar has lumped Blagejovic’s trial together with that of Dragan Jokic, who was chief engineer for the Zvornik Brigade and is charged with supervising the digging up of the graves, and the reburials.

As I take down the names and facts, I remind myself that accountability is – like the identification of victims – one of the keys to the reconstruction of the place I have just visited. They can rebuild Srebrenica’s houses, exhume the graves, identify the victims and start their small businesses, but if those who were responsible for the massacre are not brought to justice it will all be for nought. The abstract hatred that we discussed earlier could yet again find a specific target. There is much at stake in Courtroom 3.

Strong Woman

Tuzla, June 12: I interview Beba before I leave, in the Bosfam weaving center. Our former AP colleague Aspen Brinton caught Beba in a foul mood when she recorded an interview last year around July 11 for a promotional film on Bosfam. Beba explains to me that she had been tense at the time, because the July 11 anniversary of the massacre was approaching. Today she seems relaxed.

I want to capture something of Beba’s personality in this interview. One the one hand, she can be impetuous, domineering, impatient. We’ve come up with three suggestions for possible Bosfam partners and she’s dismissed them out of hand (“useless,” “hopeless” “out of the question” etc). She refuses to join the Forum of Srebrenica NGOs, which we’re trying to encourage. She has a talent for raising hackles, and this is not helpful. Inside her organization, Beba finds it hard to delegate. This also makes it hard for Bosfam to develop democratic rules and a real structure.


Beba Hadzic (left) with AP intern Pia Schneider.

I think Beba must realize that Bosfam’s utter dependency on her is not good. Last year, Aspen, Marta (our intern) and Peter found Beba veering between despair and optimism. Right now she seems much more inclined towards optimism, even though the money is not coming in.

But what a remarkable woman she is. At one stage of the interview, I ask her if she considers herself “courageous.” To me, Beba and the other Srebrenica survivors personify courage. But she looks puzzled and asks what the word means. I try again. “Are you brave?” This produces the same reaction – complete bewilderment.

“Are you strong?” I ask. Now that she understands. She herself is so strong that I expect her to talk about herself. But her answer, roughly translated, is a surprise: “I consider that every woman – Serb, Muslim, Croat – who survived this war and now works to rebuild Bosnia, is strong. Every woman who brings up a child, who supports an unemployed husband, who has responsibility for a family of five people – that’s strength. That’s bigger than Bosfam.”

My heart goes out to Beba. I remind myself that we must talk to her more often and more directly. Partnership is indeed a two-way thing, and we have much to learn from Bosfam and its director.S

Posted By Iain Guest

Posted Jun 17th, 2004

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