As a product of the 90s I've heard of Bosnia, Yugoslavia (courtesy of the NBA) and a genocide, but I never really paused to examine the devastating effects of it until an adult. As a college student I added more vocabulary and political education to my repertoire- ethnic cleansing, Balkans, Serbia, Croatia and Kosovo. Still, it was distant and unrelatable. I couldn't imagine a scenario like Yugoslavia in the US.
During the last few years and our current crisis around police murders of black men, it started to enter my imagination. What if one day, my neighbors, my state take up arms against me or a certain communities of the nation?
What if police brutality, redlining, lynchings, deportations, surveillance programs are rooted in the same soil that drove Serbian aggression on Bosniaks?
Of course this isn't unprecedented in this country- race riots, immigration exclusion acts, and Japanese internment all point to xenophobia and nativism in the US.
In reading Hasan Nuhanovic's first hand account of life under siege during the three and a half year Bosnian War, I could start feeling connections to it with the world I lived in.
If we grew up together, Nuhanovic would strike me as a suburban middle class kid, with a dry sense of self deprecating humor, a generation or two removed from family in the countryside that worked hard with their hands, filled with filial piety, and a high intellect.
Of course what makes him unique is the devastating circumstances of his early adulthood. He's dedicated his life's work to bringing attention to the Bosnian genocide, seeking justice by prosecuting perpetrators and memorializing those killed to a wider global audience.
Nuhanovic recounts how he learned English from books as a refugee under occupation, and got immersion experience by working as a translator for the UN when they entered Srebrenica.
Three aspects of this book really stood out:
(I)
He writes about the descent into survival mode and strips away any romanticism of life under siege. He recalled poignant moments like the last time the family would have electricity or Muslim refugees resorting to eat pork because it was the first time in months they had come across meat. More than once he reflects on his attempts to leave the warzone by appealing to his family. He seemed to be up against a common middle class folly that stability is a given and things would return to normal after some unusual hiccups within the state.
He reflects on the pure survival instincts that kick in, where priorities are only your immediate family and at times only yourself if given the choice of escaping or having a morsel of food. On approaching relatives and friends under the siege, Nuhanovic notes the unspoken social contract- feel free to visit, but don't expect to be offered or ask for any food or material support.
Bitter moments like this are littered through the book, and occasionally broken up with moving and inspiring stories of generosity and the heroics of the Bosniak resistance, which Nuhanovic openly admits that he wasn't up for. He relates these thoughts as a matter of fact, as well as several instances of his family going hungry.
(II)
The stirring beauty and natural landscape of Bosnia. The forests that Bosniaks ran into to hide from shellings and soldiers, the mountains entire families fled to find refuge in, the wide and long rivers that transported refugees under gunfire, the bright and clear skies that meant frequent air raids, the snowy landscape that meant inevitable hunger, the idyllic farms and villages razed to the ground- hits all the more harder if one has visited Bosnia or read Ivo Andric's Nobel prize winner, Bridge on the Drina.
(III)
The indifference of the global community, the war propaganda machine vilifying Bosniaks, realpolitik of Serbian aggression with impunity are things you may read in an International Relations textbook. We already know how this story ends, who is killed and who survives. But when written by a survivor with the intent to convey beyond emotional trauma, the book carries a haunting resonance.
Hasan cites his intention to share accounts of the siege and to bring justice by prosecuting the perpetrators of the genocide and those complicit in the war.
This necessitates a slight matter of fact treatment, which really works as the author recounts and simultaneously separates his first hand experiences to give a contextual and bigger picture account of the war.
-
The Last Refuge is meant to be the first of three books recounting events leading to the Srebrenica genocide in July 1995.
Hasan Nuhanovic interview, 2013:
During the last few years and our current crisis around police murders of black men, it started to enter my imagination. What if one day, my neighbors, my state take up arms against me or a certain communities of the nation?
What if police brutality, redlining, lynchings, deportations, surveillance programs are rooted in the same soil that drove Serbian aggression on Bosniaks?
Of course this isn't unprecedented in this country- race riots, immigration exclusion acts, and Japanese internment all point to xenophobia and nativism in the US.
In reading Hasan Nuhanovic's first hand account of life under siege during the three and a half year Bosnian War, I could start feeling connections to it with the world I lived in.
Of course what makes him unique is the devastating circumstances of his early adulthood. He's dedicated his life's work to bringing attention to the Bosnian genocide, seeking justice by prosecuting perpetrators and memorializing those killed to a wider global audience.
Nuhanovic recounts how he learned English from books as a refugee under occupation, and got immersion experience by working as a translator for the UN when they entered Srebrenica.
Three aspects of this book really stood out:
(I)
He writes about the descent into survival mode and strips away any romanticism of life under siege. He recalled poignant moments like the last time the family would have electricity or Muslim refugees resorting to eat pork because it was the first time in months they had come across meat. More than once he reflects on his attempts to leave the warzone by appealing to his family. He seemed to be up against a common middle class folly that stability is a given and things would return to normal after some unusual hiccups within the state.
He reflects on the pure survival instincts that kick in, where priorities are only your immediate family and at times only yourself if given the choice of escaping or having a morsel of food. On approaching relatives and friends under the siege, Nuhanovic notes the unspoken social contract- feel free to visit, but don't expect to be offered or ask for any food or material support.
Bitter moments like this are littered through the book, and occasionally broken up with moving and inspiring stories of generosity and the heroics of the Bosniak resistance, which Nuhanovic openly admits that he wasn't up for. He relates these thoughts as a matter of fact, as well as several instances of his family going hungry.
(II)
The stirring beauty and natural landscape of Bosnia. The forests that Bosniaks ran into to hide from shellings and soldiers, the mountains entire families fled to find refuge in, the wide and long rivers that transported refugees under gunfire, the bright and clear skies that meant frequent air raids, the snowy landscape that meant inevitable hunger, the idyllic farms and villages razed to the ground- hits all the more harder if one has visited Bosnia or read Ivo Andric's Nobel prize winner, Bridge on the Drina.
(III)
The indifference of the global community, the war propaganda machine vilifying Bosniaks, realpolitik of Serbian aggression with impunity are things you may read in an International Relations textbook. We already know how this story ends, who is killed and who survives. But when written by a survivor with the intent to convey beyond emotional trauma, the book carries a haunting resonance.
Hasan cites his intention to share accounts of the siege and to bring justice by prosecuting the perpetrators of the genocide and those complicit in the war.
This necessitates a slight matter of fact treatment, which really works as the author recounts and simultaneously separates his first hand experiences to give a contextual and bigger picture account of the war.
-
The Last Refuge is meant to be the first of three books recounting events leading to the Srebrenica genocide in July 1995.
Hasan Nuhanovic interview, 2013: