Alija Izetbegovic - Biography by Creative 24/7 Sarajevo

Publisher: JU Muzej /Museum “Alija Izetbegović” On behalf of the publisher: Elvis Kondžić Author: Zehrudin Isaković Editor: Elvis Kondžić Translation: Saba Risaluddin Design & DTP: Sanjin Manov, Zijah Gafić Printed by: BEMUST Print run: 750

BIOGRAPHY

By Zehrudin Isaković Source: Dostojanstvo ljudskog izbora, Alija Izetbegović, OKO, 2005 3

lija Izetbegović was born in Bosanski Šamac on 8 August 1925, to a distinguished bey’s family (belonging to the gentry) which, though originally from Belgrade, was compelled in 1868, “under Serbian terror,” as the chronicles have it, to move to a place of greater safety. They chose Bosanski Šamac. Izetbegović’s grandfather, also called Alija, was mayor of Bosanski Šamac. He is said to have been highly regarded by the townspeople for his fairness and honesty. The town will long recall the way in which he resolutely protected a group of leading Serb townspeople from the Austrian authorities when, following the assassination in Sarajevo of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir-presumptive to the throne of Austria, they planned to hold them as hostages. Alija Izetbegović’s earliest years were associated with the two rivers overlooked by the windows of the house where he was born: the Bosna and the Sava. The name of the former foreshadowed the time when, already advanced in years, he and his Party of Democratic Action (SDA) came to power and he entered the Presidency of Bosnia and Herzegovina. It was not long before war broke out, and a desperate struggle to preserve the country’s newly-won independence and territorial integrity ensued. In his youth, he had fought for the idea of Islam; in the final years of his life, he was focused entirely on the struggle for the rights of the Bosniacs and their homeland of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Alija was not yet two when his father Mustafa, a merchant and banker, decided to move to Sarajevo. The family was a large one; his parents were to have five children, three daughters and two sons, of whom Alija was the elder. He also had two half-brothers from his father’s first marriage. Tragically, Mustafa was badly wounded on the Italian front in World War I, injuries which were later to result in a kind of palsy or paralysis that left him more or less bed-ridden for the last ten years of his life. Though the whole family helped to look after him, Alija’s mother Hiba bore most of the burden of her husband’s illness. His mother was a very pious woman, and Alija would later note that it was to her that he owed his early religious convictions. Though he admitted that he found it hard to rise before first light to say his morning prayers with his mother, Izetbegović 5

liked to recall that period in his life, and in particular the beautiful Qur’anic sura Ar-Rahman which older people recall was never recited more beautifully than by Imam Rahmanović in the hajji’s mosque opposite the City Hall. The whole family agree that the young Alija combined the genetic features of both his parents: physically, he resembled his mother, but in character, they say, he was like his father. This, no doubt, helps to explain why Izetbegović junior broke free from parental influence at a fairly early age to live his own life. When he was about fourteen, Izetbegović was influenced atheist and communist writings and his faith began to waver. Communist propaganda was at its height in Yugoslavia just before the outbreak of World War II, partly as a reaction against fascism, which was in its golden – or rather, most sinister – age. Yet, according to the “later” Izetbegović, communism did not mean democracy – “red” totalitarianism grew stronger to counter the “black” version. Izetbegović was attending the First Boys’ Grammar School, where the communists were particularly active at the time. The school itself was reputed to be “communist” – according to the grapevine, some of the professors belonged to the movement. A number of leaflets thus came into his hands, and he was not immune to their message; he began to be in two minds between the problems of social justice and injustice, on the one hand, and belief in God on the other. However, even at first glance, the young Izetbegović’s doubts were aroused by the fact that the communist propaganda portrayed God as the “bad guy” and religion as “the opium of the people,” a way of keeping the masses so subdued and deadened that they would not struggle to improve their lot in “real life.” Contrary to this, it always seemed to Izetbegović himself that the central message of faith, in its various forms, was to live a moral, responsible life. Finally, after a year or two of spiritual and philosophical vacillation, Izetbegović returned to his faith with renewed strength, and in a new way. Later it would seem to him that the steadiness of his faith was in fact the outcome of his youthful doubts; it was no longer the faith into which he had been born, a tradition he had inherited, but one he had adopted anew. He was never to lose it again, even though later, as his 6

writings on religious matters reveal, he constantly re-examined and studied it. (“The universe without God seemed utterly pointless to me,” Izetbegović was later to write in his Memoirs.) Meanwhile, he read the classic works of European philosophy, and by the age of nineteen he already had a solid grounding in the writings of Hegel, Spinoza and Kant, whose “categorical imperative” had a particular impact on the inquisitive young man. He matriculated in 1943, at the height of the war, when the Izetbegović family, like most of their neighbours, were feeling the effects of war shortages and were more often hungry than sated. Sarajevo was occupied by the Ustasha, who had imposed a harsh Nazi regime. Izetbegović should have reported for military service, but did not do so; in the eyes of the authorities, he became the typical draft dodger, and had to remain in hiding throughout 1944. When it became too risky for him to remain in Sarajevo, he escaped to his native Sava valley region. As he would himself later admit, none of the armies there impressed him: neither the Partisans nor the Muslim militia, and least of all the Chetniks and the Ustasha. However, the fact that he did not take up arms did not mean that Izetbegović was uncommitted; on the contrary, he and a few others of like mind sought to articulate their political views through the Young Muslims organization. The first attempt to register the society under the laws of the day was in March 1941. Not surprisingly, it failed, for in April, Germany attacked Yugoslavia, and the sole priority was to survive. Strangely enough, the Young Muslims movement focused mainly on foreign policy and spiritual matters – in other words, questions relating to the contemporary Muslim world. These Young Muslims recognized that “the state of politics in the Muslim world is wretched and unsustainable, while Islam is a living idea that can (and should) be modernized, without losing any of its essence” (as statements made at that time put it). They were also well aware that most Muslim countries were under foreign rule, “whether by a military presence or that of (foreign) capital.” Though not formally constituted, the organization was becoming ever more popular among grammar school pupils and students, and continued in operation throughout World War II. Izetbegović’s first clash 7

with the movement was in 1944, when it formed an alliance with El-Hidaja, the imams’ association. As he often remarked, Alija “never fully agreed with the hojjas,” critical as he was of their rigid interpretation of Islam, the result of which, as he put it in his memoirs, “was to block its inward and outward development.”

First term in prison

o the dismay of the communist authorities, once the war was over the organization continued its operations with renewed enthusiasm. At first, Young Muslim activists received discreet warnings, but when they ignored them, the order was given to arrest them, and Alija Izetbegović spent his first spell in prison. Since he was serving out his military service in the Federal People’s Republic of Yugoslavia at the time, the military court sentenced him to three years’ strict confinement, which he began in March 1946 and completed in 1949. While under investigation, Izetbegović was held in the military gaol of the Marshal Tito barracks in Sarajevo, in a cell where half the inmates were under sentence of death. The mood among them was sombre as they awaited a final ruling on their appeal against the death sentence. Izetbegović’s three-year sentence was regarded as fairly lenient in the circumstances of the time, when some political prisoners received sentences of death or long prison terms. Even so, innocent as he was of any crime, he had to spend a thousand long days and nights behind bars. He was sent first to Zenica to serve his time, but after only two months was transferred to Stolac, where he spent seven months before being moved again, this time to “correctional labour” on a building site near Boračko Lake. As fate would have it, here Izetbegović found himself working on the building that was to be a recreation centre for the UDB (State Security Authority – the Yugoslav secret police), where “his udbaši,” the people who had interrogated him, would later enjoy a break from duty. After Boračko Lake, Alija was moved to Sarajevo, where the ironies of fate showed that they had not done with him. Here he and other prisoners were to build the headquarters of the Communist Party Central Committee. Perhaps the whole idea was that the political opponents of communism were to build its temples. The isolation of prison was made easier for the young Izetbegović by the loving letters he exchanged with Halida, a girl he had known since he was eighteen and had gone out with throughout the war. When he was sent to prison, they kept in touch by letter, describing their feelings and expressing their respect and 11

love for each other, which separation only served to strengthen and deepen. Alija was sent to the Hungarian border for the third and final year of his sentence, to work on the Belje agricultural estate near Beli Manastir. There he was put to felling trees, at which he became adept. Many years later, Izetbegović himself used to say that if ever he had to resort to manual labour to earn a crust, he would choose to be a wood-cutter: “of all the manual work I have done – and I’ve done plenty – that is the one that appeals most,” he would say. He spent that winter of 1948-1949 cutting up firewood with a hand-saw. This physical activity, combined with enough food, enabled him to make a full recovery by the end of the third year of his sentence. He was 24 when he came out of prison, and looked extremely well. His family wept with joy when they saw how strong, healthy and mentally fit he was. No sooner had he left prison than, as expected, Alija married Halida. He was proud of her beauty, considering her physically far more attractive than he himself, though many women found him handsome, with his vivid blue eyes and, despite his youth, the aura of prison martyrdom about him, which earned him the respect and affection of those around him. Just as it was the natural thing for him to marry Halida, so those who knew him best fully expected him to continue his political activities. Izetbegović renewed his connection with the Young Muslims covertly, through Hasan Biber. Exactly forty days after they made contact, on 11 April 1949, Biber was arrested. During his interrogation, he was under constant pressure to reveal Alija’s renewed involvement with the Young Muslims, but he would not buckle. The other members of the organization were still unaware of Izetbegović’s activities, so thanks to Biber, he remained at liberty, though with little time to enjoy his freedom, as he had still not fully recovered from his three years in prison. At his trial in July, Biber received the death sentence, which the zealous communists carried out in October. This trial led to widespread arrests throughout Bosnia and Herzegovina, and raids on the Young Muslims organization in Mostar began, when files and the minutes of meetings were 12

confiscated. This was followed by a simultaneous action in Zagreb, where the authorities arrested a large group of students, all of which culminated in a trial in Sarajevo in August 1949. Some of those arrested were already on trial for the second time, and were convicted and sent to prison. Adding up all the prison sentences in all the political trials of the Young Muslims gives a total of a thousand years’ confinement. The organization was wiped out, with all its leading figures in gaol or executed. There were, it is true, still some who continued inwardly to nurture the Young Muslims idea, and there were frequent secret meetings at which it was discussed, but the organized operations that could have turned into specific political action were over. Meanwhile, Alija Izetbegović was studying Yugoslav society, based, it was claimed, on social equality and a refined sense of justice. In his view, however, it had more to do with hypocrisy, with ordinary people going hungry as leading communists drew their supplies from secret caches. The masses were eating potatoes and rice, while the privileged and the ideologically “correct” were living in the lap of luxury: they had everything, from milk to chocolate. Yet any open discussion about privileges was treated as anti-constitutional and anti-state. Izetbegović spent the next ten years working on building sites, mainly in Montenegro, where he spent seven years, overseeing the construction of the Perućica hydro power plant near Nikšić. He tried to spend his free time broadening his formal education, first studying agronomy before transferred to law in his third year. Within two years, he graduated. It was 1956.

The Islamic Declaration

t was a wonder that with all this – his job, his studies, and looking after his family – Izetbegović was also able to write extensively on matters Islamic. In 1969 he produced a first draft of his Islamic Declaration, producing and publishing a final version in 1970. This short work, some 40 pages, was to arouse keen interest only after the Sarajevo Trial of 1983, when Izetbegović was convicted for a second time, for “Islamic fundamentalism.” Though written in Bosnia and Herzegovina, then part of Yugoslavia, the Declaration focused not on that country’s political circumstances but on the Islamic world, which the book treated as a coherent spiritual and even political entity. To the apologists of the socialist system, the Declaration appeared “fundamentalist,” a “threat to the social system,” as indeed it was, in essence: it called for a return to authentic Islam. To the communists, fundamentalist atheists, extolling the virtues of Islam and celebrating belief in God was heresy of the worst kind. The Declaration was both acclaimed and challenged with equal passion. The problem, however, was that those who took issue with it were mainly those who were in power, and the force of argument gave way to the argument of force. The Islamic Declaration was later translated into seven languages, becoming one of the most widely-read political texts on its subject at that time. Though he never said so explicitly, it would seem that as Izetbegović became more critical of Muslim countries, he came to see that the Declaration was too idealistic, and to realize that there was no such thing as a coherent Islamic world as he had viewed it; rather, that it consisted of many different entities, each of which had its own specific problems and context, which was particularly true of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Some passages in the Declaration were seen as a call for a polity structured on Islamic principles, which was maliciously interpreted as an appeal by Izetbegović to reorganize Yugoslavia, or at least Bosnia and Herzegovina, along Islamic lines. Whatever those who advanced such views may have claimed, it is worth noting that in his later political activities, Alija Izetbegović opted for a secular state, based on the principles of modern western democracy, where religion has its place 15

in society on an equal footing with other factors. Another surprise is the fact that Izetbegović wrote another of his works, Islam Between East and West, even before going to prison in 1946. When he was arrested, his sister Azra, who died in 1997, managed to hide the almost completed manuscript under the rafters of the family house. By force of circumstance it remained there, in quite unsuitable conditions, and when Alija found it, it was, as he himself said, “a bundle of half-decayed paper.” Even so, the bundle was in good enough condition for Izetbegović to transcribe the text, to which he then added some new passages, sending the whole thing to a friend in Canada. The book was published there in 1984, by which time Izetbegović was already serving his second prison sentence, this time a fourteen-year term. This book, translated into no fewer than nine languages, also dealt with Islam, and its place in the world of today. In his view, Islam fell somewhere between eastern and western thought, just as the Muslim world lay geographically “between east and west,” hence the title of the book. To put it in the briefest of terms, just as everything is created in pairs, so too each of us is a dual being, composed of body and soul, in which the body is the “abode” of the soul. This abode is the product of evolution, with its own past, but the soul is not: it is breathed into us by the touch of God. The abode or body is the object of science, but the soul is the object of religion, art and ethics. In Izetbegović’s view, therefore, there are two narratives and two truths about humankind, symbolized in the West by Darwin and Michelangelo, whose truths are different, but not mutually exclusive. Izetbegović sought to argue his views by developing the notion that these “truths” are presented as the clash between civilization and culture, in which science and technology are the domain of civilization and religion and art the province of culture. The former is the expression of our existential needs (how we live), the latter of our human aspirations (why we live). Civilization aspires to an “earthly kingdom,” religion to the “kingdom of heaven.” In Islam Between East and West, Izetbegović sought to demonstrate that Islam is a synthesis between 16

these two opposites, a “third way” between the “two poles that define all that is human.” In his recension of the book, Predrag Matvejević wrote that “the book reveals (the author’s) passionate and thrilling reflections on Islam and its place between East and West, geographical terms taken both literally and metaphorically, with all the contradictions they entail in the Cold War period.” More recently, Matvejević revised this, adding that from our current perspective, “it is a moderate book, free of any integralism or fundamentalism.” He also observed that “These days, after the trials endured by Bosnia and Herzegovina, one could say that Izetbegović’s approach also included a kind of warning. If only it could have been heeded at the right time,” adding that on re-reading Izetbegović’s manuscript, he seemed to see “the figure of a mild, wise man,” which is how he “always remembered him.”

Intellectual maturity

n addition to his existential concerns and his interest in matters Islamic, Izetbegović was still preoccupied with certain inevitable subjects: communism, capitalism, and the nature of these different social systems. He could never reconcile himself to the ideas proposed by communism as the pattern and measure of existence, and was profoundly offended by the hypocrisy that held there was one standard for ordinary, impoverished people and another for communist apparatchiks and officials, enjoying the good things of life and the hedonism specific to socialism and communism. Izetbegović realized that the essential problem of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, and indeed of the Balkans as a whole, was the absence of democracy. Countries that called themselves socialist were at different levels of development. What even a superficial analysis revealed, however, was the extremely strong, and indeed decisive, impact of certain key figures on the state of affairs in those countries. Though each was based on the same matrix, the actual, real-life circumstances of ordinary citizens differed from country to country, depending on their leaders. Živkov, Hoxha, Ceauçescu, Tito – four different men, four different lifestyles, and as a result, four different regimes. Yet despite their differences, all four regimes were of the same authoritarian essence. A new shadow fell over Alija Izetbegović’s life in 1979, when the President of Yugoslavia, Josip Broz Tito, received Raif Dizdarević and Branko Mikulić, leading officials of the Communist League, at his favourite hunting lodge, Koprivnica near Bugojno. Izetbegović recorded in his memoirs that Sarajevo Television’s prime time news programme reported Tito’s order to the two officials to “use the harshest measures to deal with attempts to revive clero-nationalism and pan-Islamism in Bosnia and Herzegovina.” Izetbegović saw this as applying to him, and could already hear the knocking at the door. Following the brief relatively liberal era of the 1970s, this was none other than the intimation of a new showdown with those who were not in sympathy with or were “opponents” of communism, a warning that the final reckoning was to come for those 19

who were pondering the merits of Islam, and who were therefore unable to agree with the atheist postulates of a socialist or communist society that was falling ever deeper into crisis. Despite his previous unhappy experience and constant threats against him, Izetbegović’s interest in study did not wane. He continued writing, publishing his articles in the Takvim, the Islamic calendar, using the initials L.S.B. as a pseudonym, taken from the initial of his three children, Lejla, Sabina and Bakir. The articles were a series with the general heading “Problems of the Islamic Revival.” The articles were later published as a book, which received excellent reviews. For example, Prof. Dr. Esad Duraković, noting that the book consisted of a collection of articles dealing with some of the issues of Islamic revival, wrote that the author, “in a kind of revolutionary zeal” emphasized the importance of reinterpreting the sources of Islam as a priority, a thread that runs through all his writings. According to Izetbegović, “there can be a revival only in a bold return to the fundamentals of Islam.” In fact, the whole of Izetbegović’s contribution to Islamic thought, and this book in particular, reveals him as a reformer, not so much of Islam itself as of Islamic societies and states. Many years later, speaking at the Islamic Summit conference in Tehran in 1997, Izetbegović made direct reference to all the failings, as he saw them, of the countries that called themselves Islamic, putting it in the plainest of terms: Islam is the best, but we are not. In addition, these articles, which appeared over a thirtyyear time span and were reissued under the general title Problems of Islamic Revival, reveal an ecumenical approach to the problems: far from expressing religious exclusivity, the manuscript actually affirms the diversity of religions and cultures as a blessing from God. It is true that Izetbegović also insisted that Islam should be on an equal footing with others in this world, saying that his ultimate aim was, first, to conduct an objective analysis of contemporary Islamic thought and, second, to revitalize the Islamic world and incorporate it into the modern world on the principles of mutual respect and equality. It is worth noting that Izetbegović’s approach to the problems he studies 20

in these articles is largely essayistic rather than scholarly, which does not prevent them from achieving objective value, as a significant and original contribution to thought in general, not confined solely to Islam.

The Sarajevo Trial

radually, Alija Izetbegović’s writings, which of course had not escaped the attention of the UDB, led him into new difficulties, when he and several other “Islamic intellectuals” were suspected of “anti-state activities.” Early in the morning of 23 March 1983, Alija was woken by a banging on the door of his flat on the third floor of no 14 Hasan Kikić Street. When he opened the door, a number of obscure figures burst in, without removing their shoes, brandishing a search warrant, and proceeded to search the flat, dragging cupboards away from the wall, taking down roller blinds, pulling out drawers in their attempt to find evidence of Izetbegović’s intellectual political activities and the books in his private library. Late in the day they ordered him to accompany them to the State Security Service premises, where he was told that he was to be held in detention for three days. This was later extended to thirty days, and then to an indefinite term of pre-trial detention. The investigation and interrogations lasted for about a hundred days and nights (night-time interrogations were not uncommon). Hundreds of Muslims from all over Bosnia and Herzegovina were arrested along with Izetbegović and interrogated – the famous Sarajevo Trial had begun.The indictment was based on Articles 114 and 133 of the Criminal Code of Socialist Yugoslavia: “association with a view to undermining the constitutional order,” and “verbal delict.” In addition, the indictment against Izetbegović also charged him with being leader of a group of “conspirators,” though as it would later turn out at the trial, he had never seen some of the accused before. It was true that five of the twelve accused had all belonged to the Young Muslims in the late 1940s, but when the organization was abolished in the early 1950s they had ceased to act in concert, mainly out of fear for their very lives. Even so, the court found sufficient evidence to bring a number of Muslims to court, accusing them, to put it simply, of wanting to break up Yugoslavia (posing a “counter-revolutionary threat to the social order in the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia”) and, allegedly, to build an Islamic state on the ruins, which they would then 23

perhaps incorporate into the rest of the Islamic world. Though such accusations now provoke only wry smiles, at the time the situation was anything but amusing. On day one, Alija Izetbegović, Omer Behmen, Hasan Čengić, Ismet Kasumagić, Edhem Bičakčić, Husein Živalj, Rušid Prguda, Salih Behmen, Mustafa Spahić, Džemaludin Latić, Melika Salihbegović, Derviš \urđević and \ula Bičakčić were brought into the courtroom. Almost all were known to have played a more or less significant part in safeguarding Bosnia and Herzegovina against aggression, which to some extent corroborates the hypothesis that the Yugoslav authorities knew whom they were dealing with. The prosecutor was Edina Rešidović, who, the accused were to say, conducted her case with particular zeal in what was obviously a show trial. She based the accusation of “counter-revolution activity” on Izetbegović’s Islamic Declaration which, she claimed, had been translated into Arabic, Turkish, English and German between 1974 and 1983 with the intention of posing a counter-revolutionary threat to the social order of Socialist Yugoslavia, and published in these languages with a foreword; in addition, with a view to creating a body of like-minded associates at home to pose a counter-revolutionary threat to the social order in the manner and with the aims set out in the Declaration, the accused had given copies to numerous intellectuals – Husein \ozo, Muhamed Kupusović, Husein Živalj, Hasan Čengić, Rusmir Mahmutćehajić, Mehmedalija Hadžić, Melika Salihbegović and Edhem Bičakčić, following which Hasan Čengić, Ismet Kasumagić, Huso Živalj and Edhem Bičakčić had become members of the group. Since there was no evidence to support these claims, it being perfectly clear that the Islamic Declaration did not pertain to Yugoslavia at all, the prosecution resorted to extorting statements from witnesses. One by one, Muslim intellectuals and religious leaders were brought in by the secret police and interrogated day and night. Under pressure, many signed a certain statement, but when brought before the court to repeat what had ostensibly been their own statement, their consciences pricked them and they refused 24

to do so, contrary to what the prosecution had expected. Nonetheless, the judiciary, under political orders, high-handedly upheld their signed statements one by one. Fifty-nine witnesses were questioned, 56 requested by the prosecution and only three by the defence. The statements of 23 of them were irrelevant to both the prosecution and the defence, and were not called. Of the remaining 36, fifteen held largely to their accusatory pre-trial statements, but 21 altered their pre-trial statements to a greater or lesser Many of the degree, and in some cases, repudiated them altogether. witnesses complained of their treatment while making their statements. Some claimed that their testimony had been altered to suit the charges. The principal methods used by the interrogators were blackmail and various kinds of pressure and threats. For example, one witness, Rešid Hafizović, stated that the interrogator had pulled a gun on him, and Enes Karić that his statement had been so altered as to be unrecognizable, after which he was forced to sign it. Even as he did so, he was planning to deny everything in the statement. At a Supreme Court hearing on 14 March 1984, one of the accused, Mustafa Spahić, said that he had been faced with a choice by his interrogators: either to sign a statement against one of the three principal accused or to be charged himself. On refusing to give false evidence, he was sentenced to a five-year prison term. Izetbegović demanded a public trial, and also complained that for the most part, only “politically correct” media representatives were allowed into the courtroom, whose reports were not impartial, but followed the prosecution line. Gradually, various human rights organizations began to put in an appearance, calling for a stay of proceedings, since it was increasingly obvious that this was a trial of nonsympathizers, not for what they had done, but simply because they held different views. With hindsight, it may seem somewhat strange that it was from Belgrade, albeit only well after the verdicts had been handed down, that a trenchant voice against the Sarajevo Trial of the twelve was heard. A petition signed by twenty leading Belgrade intellectuals was sent to the 25

Presidency of Yugoslavia on 6 June 1986: “Twelve Muslim intellectuals were on trial in Sarajevo between 18 July and 19 August 1983. This trial will go down in the history of the present-day Yugoslav judiciary as the archetype of exemplary punishment for word and thought. The court of first instance handed down draconian sentences for delict of opinion, unusual even in our circumstances: three of the accused received a five-year prison sentence, two a six-year sentence, one a sentence of six years and six months, one of seven, two of ten, one of fourteen and one of fifteen years. The sentences handed down by the Supreme Court of Bosnia and Herzegovina were only slightly less harsh, ranging from three years and six months to twelve years” noted the petition. The petition was reissued in October 1986, noting that the charges were concocted and that the trial was unjust and not conducted lawfully, and calling on the Presidency to free the accused. Contrary to what might have been expected, this did not induce the court to reduce the sentences. As the principal accused, Izetbegović was sentenced to a seemingly endless fourteen years in prison. Commenting on the verdict, he observed that he loved Yugoslavia, but not its authorities. The final few sentences of his closing remarks reveal a man who was willing to sacrifice literally everything for his ideals: “I was and shall remain a Muslim. I saw myself as a fighter for the Islamic cause in this world, and shall see myself in the same way to the end of my days. For me, Islam is another name for all that is fine and noble, a name for the promise or hope of a better future for Muslim nations, for their life in dignity and freedom, in a word, for everything that, in my belief, is worth living for.” The day after the verdict was pronounced, the daily newspaper Oslobođenje came out with the headline: “90 years for the enemies.” The long years of incarceration were to follow.

Prison days

n November 1983, Izetbegović was transferred to Foča to serve his fourteen-year sentence. As he entered the prison compound, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for a long struggle to maintain his physical and mental health. It was vital to stay “normal” on that rocky, uncertain path to which he could see no end. He was put in Block S-20, known as the “homicide block,” since most of its inmates had been convicted of at least one murder. Alija would later often make a point that sounds somewhat strange, but once he had explained it, you would see that it made sense, saying, “I was lucky to be in a block with murderers. Some of my comrades from the trial were worse off, because they were put with petty thieves and criminals, which is a real misfortune in prison. People like these have no moral fibre, but murderers are another class of people.” He often referred to the case of a man who killed a man in a coffee-house after the man had almost killed his father – “when you think about it, you find yourself thinking you would have done the same.” The days in prison dragged by, and Izetbegović turned increasingly to reading and contemplation, as well as finding various ways to make the time seem shorter and to keep physically and mentally fit. The knowledge that ahead of him lay an endless succession of identical or barely different days in a cell of two by two metres was incredibly disheartening. Given his age (he was already about 60), Izetbegović often caught himself wondering if he would survive to the end of his prison term and live to enjoy freedom again. Yet he was a man with the spiritual strength to endure all the trials of his days in prison and all the painful tribulations that assailed him from every quarter. Despite all his anxieties, the end of his incarceration found Izetbegović in a good state of mind. He would himself say that he owed his “preservation” as much to his faith as to the loyalty and constant moral support of his son Bakir and his two daughters, Lejla and Sabina. The letters they exchanged throughout his time in gaol were full of parental affection from him and infinite concern for their father on his children’s part. Those of the family who were at liberty lived for their father in prison, and the 29

reverse was equally true: in his prison cell, their father thought constantly about his family. This helped him through the moments when he had the bitter taste of abandonment and sorrow in his throat. (“My courage would gradually fail me as the day passed, reaching its lowest point in the early evening, when I would find it hard to fight off the onset of melancholy. It would seem that I incautiously wrote about this to my daughter Sabina, for one day I received a letter from her: I don’t know if you used to feel this, but in my case that feeling always comes over me as dusk falls. I have to keep really busy to keep it, to some extent at least, at bay. Sometimes this sadness is mingled with fear and physical weakness. I know that it has always been somewhat difficult for me to get ready when I had to go out at that time of day. But as soon as I was out and darkness had fallen, it would all pass. It’s as though all my fears, uncertainties and sorrows come together in that feeling, and I would think that this is how people feel when they decide to turn to alcohol or drugs to escape. I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I too know that feeling, in part at least, and that I can imagine how it is for you. Prison must make it harder, just as for me the feeling of freedom in this house helps me to get through that part of the day. Perhaps it would be best for you to try to be doing something when it comes over you, to read something light if you can, to do a crossword or watch TV. What I know for sure is that it’s not good to think about it at those times, or to give in to those feelings; it only makes things worse. There I go again, preaching to you, but I wanted to make it a bit easier for you. In fact, what I would like best is for us to be at my place at that time of day, sitting over a cup of coffee. But at least I want you to know that I am thinking of you always, and particularly as dusk falls.” Quoted in Memoirs.) The effect of all this was to create an unusually strong emotional bond between father and son and between father and daughters, particularly between Izetbegović and his son Bakir, who was following in his father’s footsteps by becoming interested in politics and the state of the society in which he lived. Bakir developed a keen sense for politics 30

and a strong desire to become involved. This bond between father and son would become even more marked later, under the even greater tribulations of the unimaginably turbulent years of war, in which Izetbegović the elder would play one of the key roles. Once the interrogations and the trial were over and he had to some extent adjusted to his new living quarters, Izetbegović began to keep notes – reflections on life and destiny, on religion and politics, on the works he had read and their authors, and on the many other things that came to his mind as he spent some two thousand days and nights in prison. These notes finally amounted to thirteen A5 exercise books of minute, deliberately illegible script, which would be published in late 1999 with the title My Escape to Freedom. Following publication, the critics would express the view that Izetbegović’s notes shed considerable light on his personality, in all its complexity. Prof. Dr. Enes Karić, whom UDBA’s interrogators had unsuccessfully tried to pressure into giving false testimony against Izetbegović and his co-accused, wrote in his review of the book that it was “impossible to read the book without becoming aware of the importance of Alija Izetbegović’s intellectual, spiritual and political biography, for these notes, written while serving his prison sentence, fill many gaps in the mosaic that constitutes the intellectual biography of an outstanding figure, one who had a major impact on the final decade of the twentieth century.” Karić also observed that “Escape to Freedom is in fact a refusal to allow the spirit to be quenched, and thus a way in which its author transcended the harsh reality of prison, becoming a quest for human freedom. It is in this blend of the personal and the universal that the importance of Izetbegović’s writings is to be found.” Alija Izetbegović used his time in prison to read and fill the gaps in his education. He had plenty of time, and the will to spare as well (true, there was no great choice of things to do), so that gradually, from an already solid base, he moulded himself into a man ready for any historic challenge. Those who read his notes from prison will be fascinated by the lucidity of his thinking. They may recognize their own thoughts in some of his conclusions 31

or hypotheses, while others will give them an insight into the spiritual complexities of this unusual man. Specific circumstances meant that the First, personality of Alija Izetbegović developed along specific lines. Izetbegović’s faith grew still stronger during his incarceration. His infinite devotion to God was an oasis of calm in which he always found refuge during particularly turbulent days in prison. Second, his long spell behind bars meant that he developed a particular feeling for freedom: what other people take for granted, was for Izetbegović the Holy Grail. (Much later, during the 1992-1995 war, he would utter the words that would be so often quoted: “I swear by Almighty God that we shall not be slaves.”) To this prison inmate, to be free meant both the supreme desire and the highest responsibility a person can have. In some of his interviews, therefore, Izetbegović spoke of the “terrifying side of freedom” – which everyone who is not strong-willed enough has felt; in fact, they do not know what to do with their freedom, and subconsciously want to be un-free, to be captives. Third, no doubt under the constant pressure of injustice, Izetbegović would spend the rest of his life fighting for justice as he saw it, both for himself and for the people and country to which he belonged.

Freedom at last

lawyer himself, Izetbegović continued his campaign for a reduced sentence from his prison cell. He wrote to the Federal Court in Belgrade, drawing attention to the unlawful nature of the trial itself. The international media also described the Sarajevo trial as a show trial and, slowly but thoroughly, a climate of opinion conducive to amending the sentence was created. The softening-up process took about three years, but finally, under the terms of a Federal Court ruling, Izetbegović’s sentence was symbolically reduced from fourteen to twelve years; more important, the charges were altered, leaving only the office of “verbal delict” of Article 133 of the Criminal Code. After various turns of events, the final verdict was – nine years. Izetbegović ultimately served five years and eight months – which was what it cost him to try to convey his beliefs to others. Between three and four in the afternoon of 25 November 1988, Izetbegović was summoned to the prison offices, where the chief warden, Malko Koroman, in ceremonial uniform, read out to him in an equally ceremonial voice the decision by the Presidency of Yugoslavia exempting him from the remainder of his sentence. It was his 2705th day in prison. Izetbegović could scarcely believe it: he was a free man at last. Whatever doubts he may have had after his first term in prison, now, after his second, there were none. His plan was clear in his mind: to form a political party, and to win the elections.

Founding the party

he end of the 1980s gave a foretaste of the turbulent beginning of the 90s. The crisis in Yugoslav was reaching its peak. In the western regions of the country there were demands for democratization and for the introduction of a multi-party system, and the finger was being pointed more and more openly at Serbian hegemony. In Serbia, meanwhile, Milošević was coming to the fore, and was convincing the Serbs that it was they who were under threat, so gradually creating the psychological climate for war. Slovenia and Croatia, for their part, were increasingly keen to break away from Yugoslavia to become independent states. New political elites were coming to the fore, soon to bring changes to the country. One after another, new political parties were being formed. Franjo Tuđman set up the Croatian Democratic Union (HDZ, with an independent Croatia as its central aim. Izetbegović watched all these changes, keen that the Muslim population, “from Novi Pazar to Cazin” (as he wrote in his Memoirs), be ready to meet them. From the outset it was the Yugoslav Muslim Organization of Mehmed Spaho that was his political inspiration, though he believed it had had certain weaknesses, “as was clear from the fact that it fell apart with the very first trials of war in 1941.” Izetbegović, who had a premonition of war, did not want the same thing to happen to his party. Work on the formation of the party began in November 1989, just a year after he left prison. Somewhat against his will, he was leader of the party from the outset. He admitted in his memoirs that he even asked himself, “If I’m the best, what are the rest like?” He answered himself thus: “I suppose leaders have to have some major faults, and I certainly had enough.” The first person he contacted was Prof. Dr. Muhamed Filipović, who courteously turned him down on the grounds that, in his view, the time was not ripe to form a Muslim party. He probably had in mind the law, still in force at the time, prohibiting all political activity not under the auspices of the Communist League. Anyone acting in breach of this law could in theory receive a ten-year prison sentence. Izetbegović decided to take the risk. Throughout his life he had always challenged the 37

odds, and besides, it seemed to him that it was in fact the time to form his party. In his quest for like-minded associates, he went to Zagreb, where political events had progressed further, and where he therefore hoped to find a better reception for his ideas – as indeed he did. There he met Šemso Tanković and Salim Šabić (who has since died). About fifteen invitees attended a meeting in the Zagreb mosque, organized by Šabić, and agreement in principle was rapidly reached to form a political party from the “Muslim cultural community,” with pan-Yugoslav aspirations: Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Serbia, Montenegro, Kosovo and Macedonia. Branches were soon set up abroad as well; the idea spread like wildfire. These developments were favoured by the crisis that was sweeping through the entire socialistcommunist camp. The Berlin Wall fell, and with it the power of the ideology that had ruled the Eastern Bloc. On 27 March 1990, as spring was breaking, Izetbegović called a press conference at the Holiday Inn in Sarajevo to announce the formation of his political party. His voice shaking somewhat from emotion, he read out a press statement, later to be known as the Statement by the Forty, after the number of signatories, which read as follows: “We the undersigned, faced with the crisis of Yugoslav society, which is not only economic but also political and moral, concerned to preserve Yugoslavia as a union of peoples and nations and interested in the unhindered advancement of the democratic processes that have already begun towards a free, modern state with the rule of law, desirous of encouraging this advancement and in achieving, in such a state, not only the interests common to all its citizens, but also those particular to us as citizens belonging to the Muslim cultural community, have resolved to launch an initiative to found the Party for Democratic Action (SDA), and to this end hereby announce the sixteen programmatic principles of our political action.” This was followed by the list of principles. Though it made nominal appeal to all citizens, it was clear from the very first paragraph that the party was to be nationally-based: “The SDA is a political alliance of the citizens of Yugoslavia 38

who belong to the Muslim cultural community, as well as to other citizens of Yugoslavia who accept the party’s programme and objectives.” (Nominally, therefore, those who were not Bosniacs were also invited to join the political alliance, but the Serbs already had their own Serbian Democratic Party (SDS) and the Croats their Croatian Democratic Union (HDZ).)The principles dealt with the procedures of the party and its aims and objectives. In brief, the founders of the SDA called for elections, democratic rule, equality for all the peoples of Yugoslavia and in particular in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and for a polity based on human rights and freedom of belief. They made no demands for the break-up of Yugoslavia, and though events were to move in a different direction, it even seemed that they saw it as a desirable though not necessary political framework. Of particular significance for gaining a fuller picture of the political interests of the party’s founders is Principle 7:” “Faced with the disregard for the national specificity of the Muslims of Bosnia and Herzegovina and the consequent encroachment upon them, and rejecting these aspirations as contrary not only to the historical facts but also to the clearly expressed will of the (Muslim) nation, we hereby affirm that the Muslims of Bosnia and Herzegovina, both those living in BiH and those beyond its borders, are an indigenous Bosnian nation and, as such, constitute one of the six historic peoples of Yugoslavia, with its own historical name, its own land, its own history, its own culture, its own religion, its own poets and writers – in a word, its own past and future. The SDA will therefore seek to revive the national consciousness of the Muslims of Bosnia and Herzegovina and insist that the fact of their national identity be respected, with all its legal and political consequences. Emphasizing the right of the BH Muslims to live in this country under their own national name and as an indigenous people, we acknowledge the same right equally, without no qualifications or reservations, to the Serbs and the Croats, and to all the other nations and peoples of Bosnia and Herzegovina. In this regard, we affirm our particular interest in the preservation of Bosnia and Herzegovina as the common state 39

of Muslims, Serbs and Croats. The SDA will therefore resolutely oppose attempts to destabilize, partition or encroach upon Bosnia and Herzegovina, regardless of the source of these and similar ideas.” The Principles drew particular attention to the right to “absolute freedom of action of all religions on Yugoslavia.” The document ended with the signatures of each of the forty: Alija Izetbegović, LLB, Sarajevo; Muhamed Čengić, BSc. Eng, Sarajevo; Dr. Maid Hadžiomeragić, dentist, Sarajevo; Dr. Muhamed Huković, teacher, Sarajevo; Edah Bećirbegović, attorney, Sarajevo; Dr. Šacir Ćerimović, chief physician, Sarajevo; Salim Šabić, businessman, Zagreb; Prof. Dr. Sulejman Mašović, Faculty of Special Education, Zagreb; Prof. Dr. Fehim Nametak, scientist, Sarajevo; Salih Karavdić, attorney, Sarajevo; Fahira Fejzić, journalist, Sarajevo; Dr. Šaćir Čengić, physician, Sarajevo; Edhem Traljić, LLB, Sarajevo; Džemaludin Latić, writer, Sarajevo; Omer Pobrić, musician, Sarajevo; Dr. Sead Šestić, scientist, Sarajevo; Dr. Tarik Muftić, chief physician, Mostar; Safet Isović, performing artist, Sarajevo; Dr. Šemso Tanković, senior lecturer, Faculty of Economics, Zagreb’ Mirsad Veladžić, MSc.Chem.Eng., Velika Kladuša; Dr. Kemal Bičakčić, chief physician, Sarajevo; Abdulah Skaka, artisan, Sarajevo; Omer Behmen, BSc.Civ.Eng., Sarajevo; Šefko Omerbašić, chief imam, Zagreb; Dr. Mustafa Cerić, senior lecturer, Faculty of Islamic Studies, Sarajevo; Dr. Sulejman Čamdžić, scientist, Zagreb; Prof. Dr. Lamija Hadžiosmanović, Faculty of the Humanities, Sarajevo; Dr. Halid Čaušević, LLB., Sarajevo; Kemal Nanić, BSc.Civ.Eng., Zagreb; Bakir Sadović, student, Sarajevo; Faris Nanić, student, Zagreb; Nordin Smajlović, student, Zagreb; Husein Huskić, MSc. Mech.Eng., Zagreb; Mirsad Srebrenković, LLB, Zagreb; Nedžad Džumhur, BSc.Chem.Eng., Banja Luka; Fehim Nuhbegović, businessman, Zagreb; \ulko Zunić, businessman, Zagreb; Prof. Dr. Almasa Šaćirbegović, Faculty of Veterinary Medicine, Sarajevo; Prof. Dr. Ahmed Bračković, Faculty of Economics, Sarajevo. There was talk that the forty signatories might find themselves on the wrong side of the law; yet things were changing, and the authorities no longer had 40

the strength for another major political trial. All that happened in reaction to the formation of the SDA was that a series on the 1983 trial of Alija Izetbegović was launched in Oslobođenje. The journalist who had reported on the trial had retained the style that prevailed at that time: the same accusations, the same way of faking them, as if nothing had happened in the meantime. The hidden agenda of the series was to use the Izetbegović case as yet another way of showing what kind of political “freaks” were founding the party. The authorities, who really did see the newly-emerging political actors in this way, were convinced they would win the forthcoming elections, and that these reminders of the “reactionary plans of ex-cons and incorrigible fanatics” would merely increase their lead. They got it wrong, however. Time would show that the people were sympathetic to the “ex-cons,” and were increasingly ready to adopt their political aims as their own. Two months after the press conference at the Holiday Inn, the Constituent Assembly of the SDA was held at the same venue, in a packed hall, where euphoria swept through all those present. As eye-witnesses report, the “initial fear” had been replaced by “defiance and resolve.” The invitees included many distinguished figures. The cameras focused in particular on Adil Zulfikarpašić, a Bosnian émigré and cult figure who at the time was still living in Zürich, where he had founded the Bosniac Institute and assembled some extremely valuable documents on the history of Bosnia and Herzegovina. With others of like mind, he had already been a signatory to a number of democratic initiatives relating to the former Yugoslavia. He had considerable political experience, and his presence served as a major incentive to other SDA members to continue their political action. Izetbegović had personally invited Zulfikarpašić to the constituent assembly. In Zürich the two had already discussed forming the party, and had clashed over the term Muslim versus Bosniac: Zulfikarpašić held the view that the term Bosniac should be incorporated into the programme document from the outset, while Izetbegović agreed that the term Muslim was not appropriate, but did not agree with the immediate use 41

of an alternative. He believed that the sudden introduction of the term Bosniac could confuse people when the population census was carried out, and wanted to leave the renaming of the nation for a later date, which was done. In his Holiday Inn speech, Izetbegović addressed the issue of possible encroachments on Bosnian territory, saying, “I am certain I rightly understand the deepest sentiments of the Muslim people when I say that they will not allow Bosnia to be dismembered. The shameful Cvetković-Maček agreement to partition this country is dead and gone, and the force being born in this hall today is the guarantee of that.” These words were met with a burst of applause.

The election campaign

he constitution of the SDA created the formal prerequisites for joining the race to win power. Branches sprang up all over the place. Particularly memorable was a rally in Banja Luka attended by about 20,000 people, at which a speech by Academician Prof. Dr. Muhamed Filipović, a native of that part of the world, was especially well received. Izetbegović’s visit to the US was memorable for his meeting with Nijaz Batlak, nicknamed Daidža, who introduced himself as “a Croat of the Islamic faith.” He asked Alija if the Bosniacs were making preparations for war, and chillingly foretold the slaughter of Bosniacs in the Drina valley. Daidža was later to play a controversial part in the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The SDA’s largest election rallies were in Foča, Novi Pazar and Velika Kladuša, with Foča the most emotional and Velika Kladuša the most impressive. There, on 15 September 1990, about 200,000 people came to hear Izetbegović give a speech in which he was quite explicit: “Bosnia and Herzegovina as a civil republic is what the Muslim people want: not Islamic, not socialist, but civil.” Vigorous demands for independence were already being made in Slovenia and Croatia, prompting the leader of the SDA to emphasize that the Bosniacs would not agree to remain part of “Greater Serbia.” He was quite direct: “If necessary, the Muslims will take up arms to defend Bosnia.” The speech he made at this rally will be remembered as the first time Izetbegović spoke of arms as a possible alternative. Perhaps even he himself did not believe that the armed conflict he spoke of was soon to become a reality. Three days after the Kladuša rally, Zulfikarpašić and Filipović tried to overthrow the SDA leadership. They were unhappy with the iconography of the rallies, and believed that the party was moving towards religious radicalism. Izetbegović emerged as victor, his position as leader consolidated, leaving his two opponents to form their own party, the Muslim Bosniac Organization (MBO). Meanwhile, the leader of the SDA was getting to know, one by one, the main political actors in the Yugoslav crisis. When he arrived in Zagreb, Stipe Mesić, whom he also met at that time, invited him to a meeting 45

with Tuđman. Unlike Tuđman, whom he did not take to, Izetbegović liked Mesić, and despite all the turbulent events that followed, their sincere friendship lasted until Izetbegović’s death. At their very first meeting, to Izetbegović’s horror, Tuđman showed a complete lack of tact when he said, “Mr. Izetbegović, don’t create a Muslim party, that’s quite the wrong thing, because the Croats and Muslims in Bosnia and Herzegovina are one people. The Muslims and the Croats both feel that way.” He resorted to what were ostensibly historical arguments in support of this claim. After Izetbegović had heard him out with no great enthusiasm, Tuđman predicted electoral defeat for the SDA: “The HDZ will get seventy percent of the vote, because it will get all the Croat and the Muslim votes,” he claimed. Izetbegović responded by saying that he respected his interlocutor’s knowledge of history, but that he himself was somewhat better acquainted with the Bosnia of today, and that the HDZ would get exactly 17 percent of the vote, corresponding to the number of Croats in Bosnia and Herzegovina. This was exactly what happened at the 1990 November elections: the HDZ gained the 17 percent of the vote represented by the Croats. But Izetbegović returned from Zagreb with a bitter taste in his mouth. It was the start of the unconcealed antipathy between the two men.

Election victory

he elections were held on 18 November 1990. The SDA won 86 of the 240 seats in the Parliament of the Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina, while three of the seven-member Presidency members were SDA candidates. The clear winner among these three was Fikret Abdić, with 1.2 million votes; Izetbegović won 870,000 votes. Abdić was helped by the popularity he had gained as the founder of Agrokomerc and a victim of the 1986-1987 “promissory notes affair.” His image was of a successful businessman, unencumbered by national affiliation or nationalism, which was good reason to believe that he received some Serb and Croat votes as well. Despite this, political agreement was reached and Abdić conceded the post of chair of the Presidency to Alija Izetbegović. Regrettably, the clash that was smouldering between these two politicians, with their different ideas, and also their different vanities and temperaments, was to culminate during the war that broke out in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1992. Abdić returned to Velika Kladuša and raised his own army, which was to join forces with the Croatian Serb army, continuing to fight the Army of Bosnia and Herzegovina to the last. As it turned out, Slobodan Milošević and Radovan Karadžić were able, thanks to Abdić, to achieve one of their strategic goals: a rift between different groups of Bosniacs. The inter-Bosniac conflict in the Krajina (the old Military Frontier region) was to exacerbate the misfortunes of the Bosniacs to unimaginable proportions. Following the elections and the investiture of the members of the Presidency of the Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina, a government was formed from a coalition between the SDA, the SDS and the HDZ. The parties’ opposing interests, however, resulted in a dysfunctional government. Karadžić’s SDS wanted the country at all costs to remain part of rump Yugoslavia, without Croatia and Slovenia, which in any case were an obstacle to his visions of Greater Serbia. The HDZ, under the influence of Dr. Franjo Tuđman, was increasingly inclined towards the partition of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Despite this, Izetbegović worked with these parties in an attempt to achieve some kind of (multi-) national consensus, but without success; the clashes grew more and more bitter, the clamour of arms became ever louder, and the skies over Yugoslavia steadily darkened. 49

Failure of talks on the preservation of Yugoslavia

n early January 1991 the newly-elected member of the Presidency of Bosnia and Herzegovina began attending meetings of the enlarged Presidency of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, consisting not only of its own members but also the presidents of the republics, and also attended by the federal Prime Minister, Ante Marković, and the Defence Minister, Veljko Kadijević. Fruitless attempts were made to reach consensus on the future of Yugoslavia. In despair, the Macedonian and Bosnian presidents, Kiro Gligorov and Alija Izetbegović, tabled a proposal for a “graded federation,” as a compromise between the options proposed by Slovenia and Croatia on the one hand, and Serbia on the other. Though clearly made with the best of intentions, the initiative came to nothing, and barricades began going up in the regions of Croatia inhabited by Serbs. Assisted by armed locals, the Yugoslav Peoples’ Army (JNA) followed Slobodan Milošević’s orders and surrounded the area they claimed as a Serb Autonomous Region, a model later to be transferred to Bosnia and Herzegovina. By the spring of 1991 the SDS was creating Serb Autonomous Regions by force, as facts on the ground. Military sources reveal that the JNA distributed 51,900 items of infantry arms to the Serbs in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1991, to which should be added another 17,300 rifles distributed by the SDS through its own channels – which again means the JNA – according to intelligence sources. It was clear that Karadžić was attempting, in the absence of arguments, to strengthen his negotiating position by force of arms. Meanwhile, Izetbegović was acquiring his first experiences as an international statesman. In March 1991 he travelled to Austria, where he met Kurt Waldheim, then president of Austria. It was Izetbegović’s first official foreign visit. Waldheim had his own major problems at the time, his Nazi past having been revealed. Even so, Izetbegović decided to go to Austria, a country of great importance for the fledging Bosnian diplomacy. Later, Austria’s Foreign Minister, Dr. Alois Mock, was to receive the order of Zmaj od Bosne (Dragon of Bosnia) from Izetbegović, in recognition of all that his country had done for Bosnia and 51

Herzegovina. Visits to Iran and Turkey followed. The reception he received in Tehran was far beyond what Izetbegović had expected: he was met at the airport with a guard of honour of three branches of the Iranian army, every one of the country’s highest-ranking officials, and a line of fifty diplomats. For a man who had until recently been a traitor to the regime, this was a considerable shock, and he was not sure he had been at his best during that first reception. It is well known, however, that Iran would later play a crucial part in arming the Army of Bosnia and Herzegovina, in deliberate defiance of the unjust arms embargo imposed on the country. His visit to the United States left Izetbegović disappointed by the lack of understanding of the Yugoslav crisis, and under the impression that the USA would not do anything. As part of the diplomatic offensive, he also went to Rome to attend a meeting of European Community countries, at which a Declaration on Yugoslavia was adopted. While all this was going on, Milošević, Tuđman and Izetbegović also met a number of times in the summer of 1991 to try to find a way out of the crisis. The heads of state of Serbia and Croatia tried to persuade the Bosnian to agree to some kind of three-way partition, but Izetbegović responded with the proposals he and Gligorov had put forward. On his return from Split, where he had attended one of these meetings, he was asked by a journalist to comment on the speculations about the partition of Bosnia and Herzegovina, to which he replied, “For me, that is nonnegotiable.”

Karadžić’s threats

he brief war in Slovenia broke out on 17 June 1991, the beginning of the break-up of Yugoslavia under fire. It began with the secession of this small state, with a population of two million, from which the conflict soon spread to Croatia. There the police clashed with the JNA, culminating in the siege of Vukovar and the shelling of Dubrovnik. The top Serb echelons stormed their way through Croatia, on the crest of a wave of enthusiasm illustrated by two remarks made by their leader, Jovan Rašković: “The Serbs are a crazy people” and, “Stepping on Serb meadows, you can get from Knin to Belgrade.” Izetbegović held to the view that Bosnia and Herzegovina would not remain in a rump Yugoslavia, without Slovenia and Croatia, for it would no longer be Yugoslavia: it would be Greater Serbia. He had the support not only of his own party, but also of most middle-class intellectuals in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Karadžić’s response was his famous parliamentary speech in which he threatened: “Don’t think you won’t lead Bosnia and Herzegovina to hell, and the Muslim nation perhaps to extinction,” speaking not only to parliament but also to the camera, and to a horrified public. Izetbegović reacted immediately. “Karadžić’s speech and its message are the best possible explanation why we may not remain in Yugoslavia. No one will want the kind of Yugoslavia that Mr. Karadžić wants – no one except the Serbs.” The clamour of arms could be heard everywhere, and under Izetbegović’s leadership, the SDA decided to set up a National Defence Council for Bosnia and Herzegovina, from which the Patriotic League would later emerge, the first military formation created to defend the country. This was on 10 June 1991. Though poorly armed, the Patriotic League would itself later become the pattern for the organization of the Army of Bosnia and Herzegovina, the official army of the Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Another sign of resistance was the decision, put forward by Izetbegović and adopted by the Presidency of Bosnia and Herzegovina, not to send military recruits to Croatia. It was on this occasion that he appeared on Sarajevo Television to appeal to his people not to respond to the call-up, uttering the 55

famous (and controversial) words: “Remember, this is not our war.” Later these words would be reinterpreted to suit Tuđman’s regime as meaning that the Croatian struggle for independence was not Izetbegović’s war, when he really meant the very opposite. One of the manoeuvres with which attempts were made to prevent the war spreading to Bosnia and Herzegovina was the “Serb-Muslim Accord” engineered by Zulfikarpašić and Filipović. Armed with Izetbegović’s agreement, the two of them went to Belgrade for talks with Milošević, but the results were slim; the agreement was used to set up “rump Yugoslavia” through the back door – and for the Bosniacs, that simply meant “Greater Serbia.” Nonetheless, this unsuccessful accord was yet another sign of good will on the part of the Bosnians to prevent the war into which the country was hurtling at breakneck speed. A conference on Yugoslavia was held in The Hague in early November, but ended in total fiasco; it was now obvious that war was inevitable. Still hoping for a miracle that might avert it, Izetbegović suggested that the European Community send a good will mission to Bosnia and asked the UN to send “blue helmets” to prevent the conflict already breaking out around the Bosnian borders from escalating. This was the atmosphere in which the SDA’s first Congress was held on 1 December 1991. The three-day congress was attended by 600 delegates and as many guests, to whom Izetbegović described the situation in his speech. Though he, of all key participants, least wanted war, it seemed to him that it was now inevitable, and he predicted an all-out war in which everything would “disappear in smoke and infamy.” The international media would later often quote these prophetic words.

The referendum

n 14 January 1992 the Parliament of Bosnia and Herzegovina adopted a Resolution on Sovereignty, opposed by the country’s Serbs, and preparations were made to hold a referendum on the question “Are you in favour of a sovereign and independent Bosnia and Herzegovina, a state of equal citizens and nations of Muslims, Serbs, Croats and others who live in it?” Commenting on the SDS boycott following the announcement of the referendum, Izetbegović said, “They (the SDS) have blocked the adoption of a new constitution as proposed by the Constitution Drafting Committee, and constantly accuse us of wanting a Muslim republic. The fact is, though, that with their proposal to partition the country into a Serb, a Croat and a Muslim Bosnia and Herzegovina, they are the ones seeking to impose it on us. Our position is clear: we will not accept it.” The referendum was to be held on 29 February and 1 March 1992, with the Croat electorate’s response still an unknown quantity. After calculating the odds, Tuđman gave the all-clear, and 63 percent of the population voted, 99 percent of whom voted in favour of an independent Bosnia and Herzegovina. The country’s future was decided, in the legal sense at least; but its actual fate would soon be decided on the battlefield. Yet what the referendum had achieved was something no military victory could bring: the legality and legitimacy of official power. The EC recognized Bosnia and Herzegovina as an independent state on 6 April 1992, followed the next day by the United States. Meanwhile, under European patronage, there were on-going talks on the partition of the country. At the February talks in Lisbon, Izetbegović was joined by Dr. Haris Silajdžić, whose powerful presence helped greatly to ensure that the breakneck speed with which things were going downhill was slowed at least a little. The positive features of the Lisbon proposals, in their view, was that they envisaged the continuation of Bosnia and Herzegovina within its administrative boundaries, but the negative side was the reference to several possible entities. Izetbegović was to write in his diary that he had sought “with all means in his power to save Bosnia and peace,” while 59

wondering if it was even possible. As things turned out, it was not; the day was fast approaching when the choice had to be made between them. Allout war broke out in April 1992. IzetbegoviÄ&#x2021;, now 67 years old, was faced with huge new challenges and, though he was not yet aware of it, with the most turbulent period of his life.

The outbreak of war

n 2 May Izetbegović was on his way back from the Lisbon talks, together with his daughter Sabina, Dr. Zlatko Lagumdžija (at the time deputy Prime Minister of Bosnia and Herzegovina) and Nurudin Imamović, his personal bodyguard, when he was captured by the JNA at Sarajevo airport. After a sleepless night and dramatic negotiations, it was agreed that UNPROFOR would escort them into the besieged city. This was just the beginning of the four-year war with Alija Izetbegović at its very heart. He himself said that there was “widespread fear of the Chetniks” and that the “psychological framework” had been dismantled. And so it was: once battle commenced, the fear evaporated, to be replaced by defiance. As the fighting wore on, its cost in blood kept mounting. Izetbegović often asked himself if the conflict could somehow have been prevented. He answered his own question in one of his diary entries: “Until Slovenia and Croatia seceded, yes, it could; after that, no. Or rather it could have, but only at the cost of capitulation. And slavery is the worst possible solution, worse than war.” He was to repeat, again and again, that freedom was the supreme goal in life. Despite the open fighting all over Bosnia and Herzegovina, it was not until 20 June 1992 that the Presidency declared a state of war. This was followed by its Manifesto appealing for “active involvement in the patriotic front of the struggle against aggression.” A war government was appointed, headed by Jure Pelivan, and charged with the existential issues of a country under attack. Dr. Haris Silajdžić was appointed as Foreign Minister, and the other members of the government were Jusuf Pušina, Jerko Doko, Ranko Nikolić, Žarko Primorac, Rusmir Mahmutćehajić, Alija Delimustafić, Radovan Mirković, Hasan Muratović, Tomislav Krstičević, Uglješa Uzelac, Munir Jahić, Mustafa Beganović, Nikola Kovač, Martin Raguž and Miljenko Brkić.

The problem of arming the BiH Army

it by bit, in almost impossibly difficult circumstances, the Army of Bosnia and Herzegovina came into being. The main problem was the lack of arms, and the arms embargo for the former Yugoslavia proclaimed by the UN Security Council rubbed salt into the wound. The Bosnian government repeatedly pointed out the absurdity of this resolution: the aggressors already had more arms than they could use, so that the embargo affected only the victims. Despite this, the Army was being armed, to some extent at least. The full details will probably never be known, but the embargo was breached on several occasions with the tacit agreement of certain western governments, including the US. A key arms delivery was a shipload from Iran which docked in the port of Ploče, whereupon Tuđman ordered that half the arms be immediately unloaded for the Croatian Army; still more were lost when, on the way to central Bosnia, the Croatian Defence Council relieved the load of another 25 percent. Despite being drastically reduced, this quantity of arms was crucial to the defence of certain stretches of the front. The arming of the Bosnian military is in fact a thrilling story of its people’s courage, persistence and ingenuity. As Alija Izetbegović described it for Stern, the German newspaper, towards the end of the war, “Two processes evolved side by side from the start of the war. We were becoming stronger day by day, and they were becoming weaker. They did not form a straight line on the graph, nor did they proceed at the same speed, but the general trend was as I have just described it. Our infantry has been better than theirs for a long time. Or, to put it another way, our handicap was heavy weapons, artillery; theirs was the infantry. There will be more unpleasant surprises for us and for them, but overall we have reached a state of equilibrium and taken the initiative. The equilibrium is strategic in nature, while for now the initiative is merely tactical. How can one explain our successes in Bihać, Kupres, Sarajevo? There are numerous factors, but the most important one of all, the question of morale, does not lend itself to analysis. Our people have the single-minded inner resolve to survive, a nation that had been 65

condemned to death.” Alija Izetbegović, that seemingly fragile man with such deep religious sentiments, had so many things to deal with during the war in Bosnia, as this passage from his biography vividly illustrates, in his own words: “The need for arms led us into all kinds of adventures. Once when I was in Brussels, I don’t remember the date, I was told that certain people had offered to procure arms for us with which we could effectively target Karadžić’s troops holding Sarajevo under siege. They would supply us with two special armoured helicopters and some missiles. It was a very attractive offer, for we had already been trapped for more than 500 days, exposed to random mortar and sniper fire day and night. There seemed no end to our misfortunes. When I received them, these unknown people offered to land helicopters with precision missiles on Mt Igman and the Zenica Stadium on a given night. There were two of them, of rather innocuous appearance. They did not introduce themselves, saying only that they were from South Africa and that they operated world-wide. They laid down two conditions: first, they wanted cash, to be paid the moment our people confirmed that the helicopters had landed at the agreed sites; and second, that before delivery we agree to their taking one of our men as hostage to an unidentified location, as a guarantee that we wouldn’t trick them. They suggested that the entire business be conducted at one of our embassies in Europe, and that the hostage be our chargé d’affaires there. After much haggling, we agreed to their first condition but not to the second. They then said the money should be brought in and handed over the moment our people confirmed that the consignment had reached its destination. Arms dealers, along with drugs mafiosi, are some of the most unscrupulous and dangerous people, ready for anything to acquire their illicit gains. But if you wanted arms, they were the only people you could buy them from. We told our connection in Istanbul to procure the money and courier it to our embassy in this European city. The dealers arrived at the agreed time, saying that the operation was ready to go and that the helicopters, which were to take off from a base in Italy, could be 66

over the destination in Bosnia at around midnight. Our chargé d’affaires and our courier, complete with the cash, were sitting in one corner of the room, the dealers in another. I don’t know who was more scared: our people of them, or they of us. Our people were afraid, naturally enough, that the dealers, in typical gangster style, would go for them and grab the cash; guns cocked, they were on high alert. Just in case, the dealers were told that guards had been posted in the corridors and at the entrance to the embassy. The dealers kept calling someone on their mobiles. Our man later told me, “Eleven o’clock struck, then midnight, then one, two, three. We stared unblinkingly at each other, watching every move. About dawn, they asked permission to leave the room to check, saying something was wrong. They left, and never came back.” It remains a mystery whether they were really arms dealers whose operation failed as a result of some unforeseen developments, or just con men trying to get hold of some easy money. Be that as it may, General Delić in Zenica and a group of officers waited in vain beside burning fires, waiting from a miracle from heaven; but the miracle never came. I too had a sleepless night, sitting up by the telephone.”

The Grabovica investigation

s the Bosnian war dragged on year after year, the hastily mustered patriotic troops grew into an organized army with its own rules. The nearest and dearest of many combatants suffered a terrible fate: deportation, injury, rape, murder... In some of the places where Bosniacs were massacred, entire families were wiped out. These traumatic events filled people with anger at the enemy, and in some cases their rage gave rise to the desire for revenge. One can understand their mental state, but a proper army cannot be ruled by emotion; it was vital to prevent retaliation from becoming the norm. The only person who seemed able to do this was Alija Izetbegović, whose authority was unquestioned among the troops, and that is what he tried to do. He seized every opportunity not only to encourage the men to keep on fighting, but also to make them aware of the moral aspect of the Bosnian struggle. He insisted that they refrain from killing civilians and from damaging or destroying Orthodox and Catholic places of worship. When he was told by David Owen and Thorwald Stoltenberg, in August 1993, that BiH Army troops had committed atrocities against Croat civilians in the village of Doljani near Jablanica, Izetbegović wrote to General Rasim Delić asking him to take immediate action: “A few days ago I asked over the telephone for an investigation into accusations by the HVO (Croat Defence Council) that a unit of our troops had committed an atrocity by massacring a number of civilians of Croat nationality in the village of Doljani near Jablanica. I have not yet received a report on the matter, and it is important you inform me of the results of the investigation and let it be known publicly. Use every opportunity to warn our men that they must uphold the laws of war. Do not hesitate to punish the offenders severely, and do not hesitate to let it be known publicly.” Despite these warnings, some BiH Army troops undoubtedly committed atrocities against Serb and Croat civilians. One known case is that of the village of Grabovica in Herzegovina, where members of the Bosnian army killed 27 Croat civilians. Izetbegović ordered an immediate inquiry into the case, and promptly forwarded the 69

documents on the atrocity to The Hague, via a factotum. This horrific case notwithstanding, the “balance sheet” of casualties of war reveal that such things were not widespread, but tragic exceptions. Unlike the Serb army, with its built-in genocidal plan, and the HVO, which in its own way acted to create homogeneous ethnic territories by expelling non-Croats, the Army of Bosnia and Herzegovina successfully preserved the image of an army that refrained, despite the indescribably difficult circumstances, from mass executions, arson and looting. The model was simple: the respective armies reflected the official policies on behalf of which they are waging war, and the official policy of the authorities in Sarajevo was a multiethnic state based on civil and human rights. In year one of the war, the Army of Bosnia and Herzegovina was without doubt a multiethnic army with a number of extremely competent and experienced non-Bosniac generals, most notably former JNA officers Stjepan Šiber, a Bosnian Croat, and Jovan Divjak, a Serb. They greatly enhanced the Bosnian army’s multiethnic credentials, which was one of the ideals of Bosnia’s patriots. But as the war progressed, and in particular once the conflict with the HVO broke out, the number of non-Bosniacs in the BiH Army dwindled, and the number of units with a Muslim prefix grew. It is hard to judge objectively, without the necessary historical distance, how far the loss of non-Bosniacs from the Army could have been prevented and the tendency to turn a multinational army into a mononational one could have been halted; and still harder to reach an unambiguous conclusion concerning Izetbegović’s role in the process. Still, the fact remains that by the end of the war in 1995, the Army of Bosnia and Herzegovina was almost entirely Bosniac. It should also be recalled, however, that mononational or not, it resolutely defended multinational, universal principles. Throughout the four years of war Izetbegović, though supreme commander, was himself in almost constant mortal danger. The Presidency building, where he came to work every day, was shelled more or less fiercely every day the city remained under siege, taking hits from all kinds of missiles, 70

which sadly killed 57 people. In addition, IzetbegoviÄ&#x2021; often toured the free territories of Bosnia and Herzegovina, unhesitatingly flying in dilapidated, insecure helicopters, giving rise to stories of his legendary courage. Wherever he landed in free territory, he was greeted as an unchallenged leader. This war-time enthusiasm was comparable with the struggles of Latin Americaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s revolutionary idealists; and indeed, in his beret adorned with the fleur-de-lis symbol of the Bosnian army, to some people he looked like a modern-day Che Guevara or Tito.

Relations with the East

s the fighting on the ground continued, so too did talks and international conferences. Izetbegović was often obliged to travel to the world’s metropolises to explain what was happening in Bosnia and Herzegovina. He kept repeating that the war was a war of aggression against an independent country that had been prepared, not for war, but for peace. From Geneva to New York, from Helsinki to Tehran, travelling the world from latitude to latitude and longitude to longitude, he set out the details – the strength of the JNA, the political context of the aggression against Bosnia and its genocidal nature, the state of affairs in the country, the cruel absurdity of the arms embargo, and the humanitarian disaster threatening to destroy an entire people. Rather too slowly perhaps, all these diplomatic initiatives began to produce results. The West sent food convoys and, one by one, introduced sanctions against Karadžić’s side, while the Muslim East helped with arms. Combined with the Bosnian resolve to keep fighting the unequal war despite the many casualties, the combination of food and arms had a significant impact on the final outcome. Though there were Serbs, Croats, Jews, Roma, Slovenes and Albanians among the victims of Karadžić’s troops, the worse casualties were among the Bosniac (Muslim) population. As the war progressed, it became increasingly clear that the basic, if not the only, obstacle to the partition of Bosnia and Herzegovina was the Bosniacs, and that the war was aimed primarily at them. As a result, the world’s Muslim countries became increasingly concerned about the war, and little by little, Alija Izetbegović became for them a mythical figure, the symbol of the just struggle for freedom of the Muslims of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Wherever he appeared in the Muslim world, he attracted attention and respect. His authority there added to Muslim solidarity and was a great help in raising the funds needed to defend the country. Both during and after the war in Bosnia he received a number of major awards from the Islamic world: the King Faisal Award for services to Islam in 1993; the Thinker of the Year Award from the Ali Osman Hafiz Foundation of Medina in 1996; the 73

Order of the Turkish Republic, an honorary doctorate from the University of Riyadh, and an honorary doctorate in law from Marmara University, Istanbul in 1997; the Order of Independence of the State of Qatar in 1998; and the Islamic Man of the Year Award from the United Arab Emirates in 2001.

Visiting Jeddah

zetbegović’s visit to Jeddah, where an extraordinary meeting of the Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC) was held in December 1992, turned out to be one of his more significant visits to an Islamic country. Izetbegović wrote in great detail about this meeting in his Memoirs, giving an excellent impression of the atmosphere, mood and circumstances at that time: “I took off from Sarajevo in an UNHCR aircraft. The personal aircraft of Sheikh Qasim, Sultan of Sharjah, a good, highly educated man and great friend of Bosnia, was waiting for me at Zagreb. Sharjah is one of the United Arab Emirates (UAE). On our way to Jeddah, we landed at Tirana, where we were joined by Sali Berisha, president of Albania. As we flew over Albania, we marvelled at both the beauty and the poverty of the country: the green fields and foothills of the coast crisscrossed by narrow cobbled roads. The aircraft landed at the half-derelict airport surrounded by hundreds of the grey concrete bunkers built by Enver Hoxha’s regime. President Berisha, a US-educated physician, was fully aware that as a result of Enver’s communism, his beautiful country was in a terrible state. When I asked him about the economic situation in Albania, he replied that it was like a rock-hard beaten path where it was almost impossible to grow anything. We were met at Jeddah International Airport by Prince Salman. Tall, wearing traditional Arabic costume, with a hooked, typically Semitic nose, and a loud, harsh voice, the prince has long been an example of the most natural modesty of demeanour. ’Mr President, we have called this extraordinary conference so that all of us together might do more for your people. We shall not stand quietly by as Muslims suffer like this,’ he said during our brief wait in the airport’s ceremonial lounge. At Qasr al-Mu’tamar, the palace where important meetings are held, the conference was opened the following day by King Fahd of Saudi Arabia, Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, as his official title has it, who spoke fluently and boldly, referring to international law and charters and to the religious obligations of every Muslim and every OIC member state, highlighting the sufferings of the Muslims in Bosnia. In line 77

with the old ways of diplomacy, the conference ran along twin tracks: official, and behind-the-scenes. Amir Musa, Egypt’s foreign minister, Pakistan’s minister Mohammad Sattar, Iran’s foreign minister Ali Akbar Velayati and, of course, Prince Salman, set the tone for the two-day conference. I learned that President Turgut Ogal of Turkey was in Ankara, following the events in Jeddah. On the first evening, a draft resolution was produced, to be adopted the following day, but it was too mild and general, with no commitments or timelines. Silajdžić and Šaćirbegović paced nervously about the hotel room, disappointed by the ’billion Muslims.’ All of a sudden the telephone rang: Velayati was calling. By next day the draft had been fundamentally reworked. We were happy with the result and were waiting for the resolution to be adopted when we learned that Lord Owen, international mediator at the talks on Bosnia and Herzegovina, had walked angrily out of the conference, clearly unhappy with the new draft resolution. The Muslim countries were calling upon the United Nations to lift the arms embargo by 1 February 1993, failing which they would cease to observe it... Before our departure our hosts arranged for us to perform umra. We donned the ihram and set off for Mecca. Every idea one has of the Ka’ba from seeking images and reading descriptions of it pale into insignificance when one sees the real thing. I caught my first glimpse of it from the street, through the forest of columns. We came out at the portico near the garden of Zamzam. Some pilgrims recognized me and began chanting, ’Bosnia, Bosnia.’ I found a corner and prayed two rakaats, the impressive height of the Ka’ba before me. ’O Lord, help my unfortunate, isolated people, so far from their centre,’ I prayed silently, before beginning the rituals as instructed by the Arab guide, who chased off the surprised pilgrims in front of us. ’Bosnia, Bosnia, may Allah help our brothers from Bosnia’ cried the weeping Muslims from every corner of the world. The next day we took off on our journey home. In the lounge at Jeddah Airport, Prince Salman, who had come to see us off, came over to me and said in an undertone, ’Mr President, permit me to tell you that before we left for the airport, Al Gore 78

called me from America and told me that the US was going to reconsider its position in regard to the embargo on the transfer of arms to Bosnia and Herzegovinaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;.â&#x20AC;? Bill Clinton, Governor of the state of Arkansas, had just won the presidential election, and was soon to take over the leadership of the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s only superpower, with Al Gore as his vice-president. The US did indeed gradually change its policy towards the crisis in ex-Yugoslavia, and later took over the initiative from Europe.

Relations with the West

uring the course of the many talks on the future of Bosnia and Herzegovina, which continued almost throughout the war, Izetbegović met not only Muslim leaders but practically every other major statesman of the day. Some even came to besieged Sarajevo, including France’s President Mitterrand, as did many officials from international organizations and US officials, three of whom came to a tragic end on the slopes of Sarajevo’s Mt Igman. Izetbegović did not hesitate to express his sharp criticism of the West’s policies towards the crisis. He had the impression that the international community had not worked out a clear plan for Bosnia and Herzegovina, and therefore wrote to the UN General Assembly on several occasions, calling for urgent military action against Karadžić’s and Milošević’s troops, or alternatively to allow their victims to defend themselves, by lifting the arms embargo. Europe’s governments remained irresolute, however. Izetbegović’s mood during the final third of the Bosnian war is perhaps best illustrated by his speech at the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) summit in Budapest on 5 December 1994. These are some passage from that speech: “Recent events in our country have filled me with bitterness, so I shall be brief and to the point. There is really something ironic in the fact that as I stand before this forum of an organization founded twenty years ago for security and cooperation, and has those two great words in its very title, I have to speak about things that are the very opposite: about insecurity and non-cooperation... “One gentleman, a senior official, told the world and the people threatened with slaughter and annihilation, with cynical indifference, that the Serbs had won – as if this was a football match, and he was blowing the final whistle... “From the outset, Paris and London have acted as the patrons of Serbia, blocked the Security Council and NATO, and thereby prevented every move to end the Serb war of aggression... “What is happening in Bosnia is a clash between democracy and the most heinous forms of nationalism and racism. Our opponents recognize only one nation – theirs, they recognize only one religion – theirs; only one political party. Everything that is not theirs is condemned to extinction. Even cemeteries are 81

being ploughed up. Read the latest report by the UN Special Rapporteur, Mr. Mazowiecki, about what is happening in the territories held by the aggressor. I would ask the gentlemen working so hard to make a state out of the monster that calls itself ’Republika Srpska’ – and some of those gentlemen are sitting in this very hall – whether they will next turn their hand to having that ‘republic’ recognized and its creators sitting here with us next time. I would ask those gentlemen whether they are preparing to have that entity, founded on violence and genocide, invited to join the family of civilized nations... “In a war of liberation, there is some intangible quantity that resists analysis. This is why military and political analysts from the West keep getting their forecasts wrong. Our people are fighting for their liberty, and more – for their very survival. Such a struggle is usually a hard one, but also one that is hard to lose. Not one war of liberation has been lost in the past fifty years, and I see no reason why ours should be. No one and nothing can force 150,000 soldiers to lay down their arms. I recommend you all take that into account, both for our sake and for yours. I hope that the friends of Bosnia will not hold these words against me; and as for the rest, after all that’s not my concern. Thank you.” Izetbegović often had the impression that people were actually waiting for the government in Sarajevo to suffer a military defeat. This gave rise to a profound sense of bitterness which, as in this speech at the OSCE summit, he was unable to conceal. In their autobiographies, western mediators such as David Owen or Richard Holbrooke described Izetbegović as a man with whom it was very difficult to negotiate. He found it hard to reach a decision, and even when he did, it was uncertain whether he would soon change his mind. He was not (eerily) easy-going as was, say, Milošević, who would somewhat craftily draw the line between life and death for the people in the field over a whisky. Nor was he a fanatical historical idealist like Franjo Tuđman, who dreamed of making Croatia into a state with the most territory (as a banate) it had ever had, whatever the cost. Nor did Izetbegović have the backing of a powerful army to help him in the negotiations. All he had was legality, justice and the truth – but these are the very issues that 82

become relative in times of war, when the force of argument has to face the arguments of force. As a result, during the negotiations he had to resort to tactics to such an extent that he got on the nerves of those impatient careerists, the international mediators. Nonetheless, when all is weighed in the balance, most of them held Izetbegović in high regard. It was obvious to them that as regards his policies and his military opponents, the other parties to Bosnia and Herzegovina’s crisis, he was a moral giant. They saw him as a serious man who all his life had been ready to go to gaol for his ideals. True, the war was the greatest test of the moral side of Izetbegović’s personality, as recognized in particular by Western intellectuals, with whom Izetbegović seems to have more success than with politicians. The French philosopher Bernard Henry Levy was entranced by Izetbegović the man, as he wrote in Le Monde, and in 1995 El Mondo proclaimed him man of the year after the signing of the Dayton Agreement. Several universities bestowed honorary doctorates on him, and his understanding of politics gave him the standing of a man who had advanced democracy. He received a medal from the Center for Democracy in Washington, an award from the Crans Montana Forum for the advancement of democracy, and many more accolades at home and abroad. For his part, when asked what he thought about the world’s statesmen after all those meetings, Alija Izetbegović replied, “These people are usually surrounded by pomp, by police guards, by everything that gives the masses the impression that they are outstanding figures. However, they are perfectly ordinary, and some are even extremely average. All we politicians are more or less the same. Except for a few individuals, there is no one I could say I admire. Of course, there are those I like; I like Clinton, for example, because of his easy-going ways, a kind of general attitude. Perhaps I’m not putting it well, I simply have the impression that he is a good man and, if I were an American voter, I would vote for him. Kohl is an exceptional man, I have also met Mitterrand three times, and then Chirac... They are not great men, but I couldn’t say of any of these leaders that they were below average.”

A New Year message

n his 1995 New Year message to the citizens of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Izetbegović said, “The war must not last a single day longer than it has to, but nor shall we, can we accept peace at any cost. We shall therefore negotiate wherever we can, but wage war if we must.” As it turned out, they had to continue waging war for another ten months. For 1 March, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s Independence Day, Izetbegović gave a speech in the Army Centre in Sarajevo, ending with these words: “Our goal is a Bosnia of free people, a Bosnia in which people and their rights will be respected. We counter the concept of mononational, monoreligious, single-party parastates – in the plural – with our concept of a free and democratic Bosnia. We counter hatred and intolerance with democracy and tolerance... Every nation has its promised land. Our promised land is Bosnia. I appeal you to fight for it, and win!” And so it was. Many historians were to say that it was at the end of March 1995 that the BiH Army won the crucial battle to liberate Mt. Vlašić, above Travnik. No fewer than 21,000 combatants took part in this huge operation, led by General Mehmed Alagić, commanding officer of the Seventh Corps. As well as liberating 51 sq. km. of territory and bringing about a major strategic shift in that part of the theatre of war, the battle was also psychologically significant as the first great victory in a series of victories by the BiH Army in the closing stages of the war. Let it not be forgotten that it was achieved by Seventh Corps troops, with considerable assistance from the Supreme Command’s Seventh Muslim, Fourth Muslim and Guards Brigades. Inevitably, there were casualties. Some law – Murphy’s, probably – says that it is always the best that are taken. No one knows why, but so it turned out on 28 May 1995, when a helicopter carrying Dr. Irfan Ljubljankić, acting Foreign Minister, and his escort was shot down. Irfan was also a personal friend of Izetbegović’s, who valued him as a brave and honest man, and he took the untimely death of his minister particularly hard. “I don’t like telephone calls. Ever since the war broke out, they have never brought good news. That morning – it was 28 May 1995 – I was called at about six o’clock 85

by General Delić, who said in a voice that boded no good, ’I have some very sad news for you.’ He paused for a moment before going on: ’Last night a helicopter of ours, carrying Minister Ljubljankić, was shot down over the Knin krajina...’ By about noon it became known that our entire delegation, returning from a visit to the Cazin krajina, had been killed. The four-member delegation included not only Minister Ljubljankić but also the deputy justice minister, Dr. Dr. Izet Muhamedagić, Dr. Mensur Šabolić, an official from our Embassy in Zagreb, and Major Fadil Pekić, Dr. Ljubljankić’s bodyguard. The three-man Russian crew, who had been flying the helicopter on that risky course for substantial danger money, were also killed.”

The Srebrenica tragedy

nd then, in July, came the final and most appalling twist in the spiral of Bosnian misfortunes – Srebrenica, the unprecedented massacre of between eight and ten thousand Bosniacs and four times as many bereaved. The Serb troops carrying out these operations were under the direct command of General Ratko Mladić, charged by the prosecution in The Hague with the genocide of the Bosniacs in this region. While the battle was still going on, Mladić and Karadžić were unconcernedly playing chess as they waited for the bloodletting to be completed. There is absolutely no doubt that as well as the Serb troops, the UN forces that were supposed to be safeguarding Srebrenica, also bear some of the responsibility for the massacre. At the time Srebrenica came under attack, it was a demilitarized zone supposedly under the protection of UN forces, and most of the Bosniacs had handed over their arms as required, somewhat naively believing that they would be protected by UNPROFOR in the event of a large-scale Serb attack. However, there was no reaction, and in vain Izetbegović sent letters to all and sundry, including Clinton himself. It would later become more or less certain that the UN’s seniormost officials, headed by Yasushi Akashi and Boutros Boutros Ghali, had blocked any UNPROFOR reaction. The Bosnian political and military authorities also bore their share of responsibility for the tragedy of Srebrenica, as Izetbegović himself was aware, writing in his memoirs: “When a tragedy of this scale occurs, no one is innocent. Every one of us is to blame for allowing a world in which Srebrenica was possible. Everyone has to believe that he or she could have done more. I am not entirely happy with the actions of the Army at certain critical points, it seems to me that they worked their way around some of the Chetnik positions. The soldiers believe they did everything in their power in the circumstances. In Srebrenica itself, conflict was constantly smouldering between the civilian and military authorities. In any case, the unanimity that was needed was lacking. This was in part the result of the psychological situation in a town that was surrounded and where living conditions were incredibly difficult.” 89

Given the usually moderate tone of his notes, this passage makes it clear that Izetbegović believed the local military and civilian authorities were partly responsible for the poor organization of the resistance to Mladić’s troops. Even during the war, and especially after it, rumours began to spread that Srebrenica had been “exchanged” for some other territory, and had fallen victim to the overall strategy of the authorities in Sarajevo. In this regard, there is a telling passage in Izetbegović’s memoirs in which he writes that in the prevailing circumstances, as early as 1993 he regarded the evacuation of Srebrenica as the rational solution. “In the town itself, the situation was extremely bad in every regard. Food ran out from time to time, and the lack of salt was a daily problem... Given the difficult situation, the idea of exchanging Srebrenica and evacuating the town was often put forward, but rejected. This was on the advice of the political and military leadership in Srebrenica, who believed that the town could be defended. It seemed to me that the situation would be untenable in the event of a large-scale enemy attack, and I was in favour of evacuation, but did not insist on it. As far as I recall, the soldiers were not in favour of evacuation either.” It is still unclear what the mosaic of responsibility for the tragedy of Srebrenica will look like. The relevant documents have not yet all been studied, not all the witnesses have been heard, and there are conflicting opinions. Even now, however, it is true to say that Izetbegović himself did not feel responsible, believing he had done everything in his power. If a full investigation is every carried out, it will no doubt reveal the truth, one way or the other.

Air strikes and the end of the war

he disaster of Srebrenica was followed by lively diplomatic activity on the Bosnian side, and the mood gradually turned in favour of softening up Karadžić’s troops by force of arms. The Serb side had rejected a succession of peace plans for Bosnia and Herzegovina, committed genocide in Srebrenica and then in Žepa, and carried out the Markale market-place massacre in Sarajevo, and the West finally decided to back the pro-Bosnian forces more resolutely. “On 30 August 1995, more than three years late, mass air strikes were carried out against the positions of Karadžić’s troops throughout Bosnia,” wrote Izetbegović in his diary. At the time he was on an official visit to France, at the invitation of President Chirac. News of the market-place massacre on 28 August reached him in Mostar, on his way to Jablanica, where he was picked up by helicopter and flown to Split and on to Paris. He was in despair. As he made his way to the French capital, it seemed to him that reinforcements were lurking around every corner to add to Bosnia’s miseries. Izetbegović was received by the President of France at 10 o’clock the following day. Chirac was brief. Referring to air strikes against the Bosnian Serbs, he said, “We are ready, the Americans are vacillating.” That evening, against the background of the dramatic circumstances in his native country, Izetbegović met Richard Holbrooke at the US Embassy, through the good offices of the US Ambassador to France, Pamela Harriman. Bosnia’s president described the meeting thus: “Mrs Harriman greeted us warmly and led us into a large antechamber. I immediately noticed Richard Holbrooke in the corner, on the telephone. I nodded to him in greeting, whereupon, to my surprise, he beckoned me over, pointing to the telephone receiver. It had all obviously been carefully orchestrated and I am sure none of the Americans were caught unawares. Strobe Talbott, deputy to Warren Christopher, who was US Secretary of State at the time, was on the other end of the line. What he said to me went roughly like this: ’Please continue working with Ambassador Holbrooke to find the way to peace in Bosnia. I am aware of and understand your dilemmas. I assure that yesterday’s atrocity against the 93

citizens of Sarajevo will not go unpunished. We shall carry out air strikes on Karadžić’s positions.’ He sounded very determined.” Izetbegović was too excited to sleep that night. He talked with the rest of the delegation, which included Miro Lazović and Krešimir Zubak, until late into the night, and was woken early next morning, 30 August, by someone hammering on the door: it was Izetbegović’s bodyguard. “Great news, Mr. President! They’ve begun attacking the Chetnik positions. The sky over Sarajevo is red from the strikes on the hills around.” This was some of the best news to be heard during the war. The Bosnian delegation later learned that the western allies had also carried out strikes on other Serb positions around Bosnia. In addition, the Bosnian army, now in alliance with the Croatian army and the HVO, achieved some significant victories in 1995, which seriously undermined the negotiating position of the Serb side. The last major operation by the Bosnian army was in western Bosnia between 13 September and 12 October, involving about 16,000 combatants, when Kulen Vakuf, Bosanska Krupa, Otoka, Bosanski Brod, Ključ, Sanica and Sanski Most were all liberated. This marked the beginning of the end of the war, which was finally to end with the initialling of the Peace Agreement in Dayton on 21 November 1995.

The Dayton negotiations

„I have done all kinds of jobs in my long life: as a prisoner, I dug soil, carried plaster, felled trees, and later, as a free man, ran a building site, represented clients in court, and wrote articles. But my most difficult job has been negotiations. To negotiate means to make decisions; and to make decisions is the hardest thing that can be forced on an unfortunate human being. My problem was that I could neither achieve peace nor run a good war. The negotiations were held in an atmosphere of blackmail, with a sword hanging over Bosnia’s head. The people, under attack and outnumbered by a better equipped enemy, were suffering terribly, but the peace that was on offer was always contrary not only to my principles, but to elementary justice. I would have been hard for me to accept such a peace, but still harder to go back home with the message that the war was to continue. My dilemmas were painful ones. I felt as though I were being crucified.” With these words, Izetbegović began his Dayton diary, admitting to himself what many others had observed: he disliked taking decisions, and would dither endlessly before making up his mind. But this time, there was no escape; the entire international community, led by the Americans, agreed on one thing – a peace agreement of some kind simply had to be reached. The “compromises” that would have to be made would surely be painful. And while for the Serbs, and to some extent the Croats (at least those represented by Tuđman), the word meant a few percent more or less territory, the odd institution here or there, the Bosnians were playing for justice, morality and people’s lives. The other parties, Milošević above all, followed by Tuđman, had chosen war, but it had been forced on the Bosnians and their president. The moral aspect was thus important only to one side, not to the other two. They had factored in their haggling over territory in advance, where people’s lives were for the most part nothing but small change – collateral damage as the two “great men” sought to achieve their greater-state ambitions. Ten days before the talks began, at an SDA executive committee meeting, Izetbegović set out the objectives of the “Bosnian party” in sixteen points. Roughly speaking, they 97

called for the country to remain one, for the presence of international peace implementation troops, the prosecution of war crimes, and “no giving up Brčko.” This was the bottom line. But as they would later see, he who sups with the devil... The exhausting talks soon began at the Wright Patterson military base. The starting-point was the Contact Group plan, the partition of the country, 51:49 in favour of the Federation, and a weak central government, the responsibilities of which had yet to be determined. Izetbegović described the atmosphere on the first day: “Official luncheons are the scene of forced smiles, vanity, artificiality and pretence, all seasoned with food you don’t like. Such lunches were an integral part of the protocol at the Dayton talks, and whenever I could, I avoided them. It was at an official lunch at the Hope Hotel that the talks officially began – it was 1 November 1995. Our delegation consisted of myself, Haris Silajdžić, Krešimir Zubak, Jadranko Prlić, Miro Lazović, Ivo Komšić, and Muhamed Šaćirbegović, with Kasim Trnka, Kasim Begić and Džemil Sabrihafizović as legal advisers.” Lunch was followed by a plenary session at which Warren Christopher, Carl Bildt, Tuđman, Milošević and Izetbegović spoke. On day two of the talks, 2 November, the Bosnian delegation met Tuđman, with Holbrooke as mediator, to discuss issues around the formation of the Federation and its accompanying problems. On 3 November, Izetbegović had a meeting with the foreign ministers of France, Germany, Great Britain and Russia. All four delegations stressed the importance of the talks and offered the assistance of their governments in the peace process. Izetbegović also had his first Dayton meeting with Slobodan Milošević, which he recorded as follows: “I am not sure I know Milošević that well, but it often seemed to me that he and his politics were two different things. I found it hard to reconcile what he was doing with the impression I had of him as a man. He is not a rebarbative figure. True, he is always a little drunk – or seems to be – and in the mood to chat. It looks as though he believes what he says. I have no doubt he is brave, but I would not say he is two-faced. A split personality, perhaps, but that is something else. However, 98

it seems that the other, evil side of his personality is the stronger, so that Milošević inevitably generates evil.” A detail from the Dayton talks may illustrate this contradictory view. “After lengthy, long-drawn-out talks, he suddenly changed his position on Sarajevo one day, largely accepting our demands. As we left the room, he said to Silajdžić and me: ‘It’s easy for you, you’ve got Sarajevo, and now I need a helmet against those idiots.’ He was referred to Krajišnik and Koljević, who were in another building impatiently awaiting the outcome. I don’t think he was putting on an act. On the contrary, I think that was what he really thought about the people around Karadžić.” The next few days were mainly taken up with talks on finetuning the structure of the Federation, with a succession of international mediators and officials from Croatia, Mato Ganić and Gojko Šušak. On day seven Izetbegović had a private meeting with Holbrooke, at which they agreed that some progress had been made over the Federation, but not even a millimetre of progress over Sarajevo. The Serbs were demanding that the city be divided, while the Americans wanted a “’District of Columbia’ or ’federal’ model, in which Sarajevo... would become an independent enclave governed by representatives of all three ethnic groups,” with a unified police force. Izetbegović met mainly with the Americans. The Serbs again tabled a range of overpasses, underpasses, bypasses and the like, all designed with the sole purpose of retaining as much of the territory they had seized as they could and ensuring that it was nationally exclusive. The ceremonial signing of the Agreement on the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina was held on 10 November, at which Izetbegović said, “I shall call this a historic day; I shall leave it to the historians in some remote future to judge its significance. They will judge it, not on what is said today, but on what is done. I would rather call today the day of our resolve or the day of our hope, as Secretary of State Christopher has just said.” As Izetbegović relates, when Tuđman spoke, he treated the Federation as a state and referred to its relations with Croatia. “I didn’t like Tuđman. He behaved rather like an upstart, and his protocol was 99

on the verge of kitsch. He always wanted to take a piece of Bosnia, large or small. I have not read his doctoral dissertation, but I know it deals with the Croatian Banate established in 1939 under the terms of the Maček-Cvjetković agreement. The Banate was exactly to his taste, since it included much of Bosnia. I imagine he would have read Huntington with pleasure. In fact, Huntington’s ’clash of civilizations’ provided a good theoretical justification for his aspirations towards Bosnia.” And yet, despite this undoubted antipathy, Izetbegović tried to weigh objectively the “interior” aspect of Tuđman’s politics. “Tuđman was one thing for Croatia and another for Bosnia and the rest of the world. What he did for Croatia is incalculable. He laid the foundations of a Croatian state that will one day – when he is gone – become a democratic, progressive country. His services to Croatia are lasting, his mistakes temporary and rectifiable. But as for his impact on events in Bosnia, the reverse is largely true.” While the Federation issue was somehow making progress, the peace deal as a whole was still very much in doubt. More than ten days of talks had left things essentially as they were. Izetbegović was in a poor state of health, eating little, feeling his heart pounding, often waking at night. Holbrooke must have noticed these changed, for he made Izetbegović an unexpected offer: if he wished, one of his daughters or his son could come to Dayton to be with him. Izetbegović thanked him for the offer, turning it down, but could see that Holbrooke was not going to give up easily. Yet he had the impression that every day he was getting closer to a heart attack. Sadly, his doubts became reality three months later. Izetbegović was certain he had “earned” his cardiac problems in Dayton. The next ten days were full of talks about maps. Holbrooke presented the Serb option, which was unacceptable to the Bosnian side. The British put pressure on the Bosnians to accept this disadvantageous map, with its large Brčko corridor, but this time Izetbegović and Silajdžić stood firm, refusing to yield to the pressure. On day thirteen, news spread of a rift between the Bosnian Croats and Tuđman. Zubak was refusing to agree to give up the Sava valley region to the Serbs, 100

which Tuđman had already agreed to, and perhaps even spoke of a “pure Baranja.” “It will happen, with or without you,” Tuđman had apparently told Zubak, to which Zubak replied, “Without me, then.” The eighteenth day of talks was crucial to the entire negotiations: Milošević had decided to “surrender” Sarajevo. Here is how Holbrooke described this momentous event: “Early Saturday afternoon, I asked Milošević to take a short walk around the inner compound. I complained bitterly that his behavior was going to cause a breakdown of the talks, and concentrated on Sarajevo. ’Some issues can be set aside or fudged,’ I said, ’but Sarajevo must be settled in Dayton.’ ’Okay,’ he said with a laugh, ’I won’t eat today until we solve Sarajevo.’ A short while later, while I was chatting with Hill and Clark, the door to my suite opened without warning, and Milošević walked in. ’I was in your neighborhood and did not want to pass your door without knocking,’ he said, smiling broadly. Clearly, he had something important to tell us. ’Okay, okay,’ he said as he sat down. ’The hell with your D.C. model; it’s too complicated, it won’t work. I’ll solve Sarajevo. But you must not discuss my proposal with anyone in the Serb delegation yet. I must work the “technology” later, after everything else is settled.’ ’I tell you,’ he continued, ’Izetbegović has earned Sarajevo by not abandoning it. He’s one tough guy. It’s his.’... As he talked, Milošević traced on a map with a pen the part of Sarajevo he was ready to give to the Muslims. Immediately Chris Hill objected; it was a huge concession, but it was not all of the city. Milošević had retained for the Serbs Grbavica, a key area across the river from the center of town. Although a dramatic step forward, Milošević’s proposal did not quite unify Sarajevo. When Hill pointed this out, Milošević exploded. ’I’m giving you Sarajevo,’ he almost shouted at Christ, ’and you talk such bullshit!’ We told Milošević that while his proposal was ’a big step in the right direction,’ it was likely Izetbegović would reject it. Hill and I went immediately to see the Bosnian President. Izetbegović did not acknowledge the importance of the offer, but focused solely on its defects. ’Sarajevo without Grbavica cannot exist,’ he said with 101

passion. The area that Milošević wanted to retain for the Serbs jutted directly into the center of the city and was known to Western journalists as ’Sniper Alley.’ Still, we all recognized that the negotiations over Sarajevo had entered a new phase. Taking a detailed street map of Sarajevo, Hill, Clark, and I went back to Milošević’s suite. We began examining every road and every terrain feature. Milošević seemed flexible; Hill predicted after the meeting that if we stuck to our position we would get all of Sarajevo the next day. Feeling suddenly encouraged, we adjourned with our hopes soaring.” And that is how Sarajevo was won. Izetbegović’s one great goal had been achieved. After this, Milošević also agreed to arbitration over Brčko, and with a few more details, the agreement was almost ready. On 20 November, agreement was reached, and the document was formally initially in the presence of the US President. It was then signed in Paris on 14 December. Peace had been established in Bosnia.

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The establishment of peace

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he war had ended, but not the problems. The implementation of the Dayton Peace Agreement encountered major difficulties. The lack of clarity of some of its provisions was exploited by each side interpreting them in their own way. Izetbegović and his associates concentrated mainly on the struggle to strengthen the state of Bosnia and Herzegovina and its central institutions, the return of refugees, and bringing those accused of war crimes to justice. Major outstanding problems concerned the arbitration for Brčko and the reunification of Mostar. Izetbegović’s man for Brčko was Dr. Ejub Ganić, and for Mostar, Safet Oručević, a man whose heroic struggle had saved part of the city during the war. Both projects were concluded with relative success after a few years: Brčko became a district, and Mostar, though somewhat dysfunctional, is a reunified city, with which its people are increasingly at ease. The resolute struggle to reconstitute the multiethnic Izetbegović’s health deteriorated state also began to produce results. immediately after Dayton; he had a heart attack, leaving hospital at the end of March 1996. Yet this was the beginning of ill health that was to dog him, with ups and downs, until the end of his life. The Bosnian President’s capacity to continue working was seriously restricted. Even so, he found the strength to exercise power for a few more years. He was often invited to conferences in various parts of the world. In America, he received an award for the advancement of democracy; in the East, he was as well respected as during the war. But Izetbegović did not see his presence at meetings and conferences as a mere formality; something in him, probably that Bosnian defiance resulting from the bloody war, compelled him to a critical sense of detachment. In the West, he defended Islam; in Muslim countries, he defended the West. In the West, he was an easterner; in the East, a westerner – but in both, he was a Muslim. It is perhaps no exaggeration to conclude that Izetbegović was in fact one of the world’s best qualified figures on this subject, an old one to him. Let us not forget that Izetbegović had met probably every relevant political and many intellectual figures of East and West, of Islam and Christianity, at specific, historic moments for his country, when 105

facing the greatest of challenges. A modern system of global cooperation was being established in Bosnia. One of his speeches that provoked an almost revolutionary commotion was delivered to the heads of state and other representatives of Islamic countries in Tehran in December 1997. The speech, which was broadcast live on all major television channels in the Islamic East and a number in the West, was a synthesis of his reflections on the current state of affairs in the Muslim world, attitudes to terrorism, and the false impressions and prejudices held by some Muslims towards the West. “I regard it as a great privilege to have this opportunity to speak at this important gathering of Muslim countries. I have just returned from a conference on Bosnia in Bonn, at which the situation in my country was discussed and some extremely important decisions were made... With due respect for your time and today’s agenda, I shall deal with just one subject in my talk; East and West, and my Bosnia between the two. The idea for this came to me during my latest travels, which are still continuing. In the week now coming to an end, I left Bosnia for Saudi Arabia to attend a conference on education, and then went to Europe to a conference on Bosnia, and here I am now in Teheran, at an Islamic conference – East, West, East. I believe I am fairly well acquainted with both halves of the world, and on my travels I have learned some new things, good and bad. “I have learned the encouraging fact that there are five million schoolchildren and students in Saudi Arabia, but also the sad fact that in another Muslim country, there is 68.5 percent illiteracy. Another piece of good news I have just heard is that twenty million people attend one school or another in Iran, but the bad news is that female illiteracy is unacceptably high in almost every Muslim country. Women constitute half the human race. An uneducated woman cannot bring up the generation that will lead our people into the 21st century. Forgive me for being so frank. Pleasant falsehoods do not help, but the bitter truth may be curative. The West is neither corrupt nor degenerate. The communist system has paid dearly for deluding itself that the West was rotten – it is not. It is strong, educated and well organized. Its schools are better than ours, and its 106

cities are cleaner than ours. Human rights in the West are at a higher level, and social welfare for the poor and the less able is better organized. Most westerners are responsible and punctual – that is my experience with them. I am also aware of the dark side of their progress, and I do not lose sight of it. Islam is best – that is true; but we are not the best. Those are two things that we often confuse. Instead of hating the West, let us compete with it. Does not the Qur’an exhort us to do just that: ’Compete in doing good.’ With the help of our faith and learning we can create the strength we need. True, it is a hard and tiring path, it is difficult to climb a mountain, the mountain the Qur’an speaks of, but there is no other way. So let us set up education foundations everywhere. Let not one of our children be left without an education. Rich Muslim countries should help the poorer in this important task. Let us do it today, or immediately convene a special conference on the subject. Some people think we can gain the advantage by terrorism. This is a fallacy that is becoming dangerously widespread. Terrorism is the reflection of our current disempowerment, and the possible cause of our future impotence. It is not only immoral, it is counterproductive. It is immoral, because it kills innocent people; and it is counterproductive, because it has never resolved anything. Terrorism has been rejected by every serious political movement in the past. In my view, the Qur’an explicitly forbids it with that well-known phrase: to kill an innocent person is akin to killing the whole of humankind.” Sadly, there are people who forget this. “And now, a few words of Bosnia, my country. I have referred to East and West. Bosnia lies on the boundary between these two worlds, on the Great Frontier, as we like to say. Every tenth Bosniac was killed in the recent war. So do not allow another injustice to be done to Bosnia. Tell everyone that for you, Bosnia is a holy land, for it is soaked in the blood of innocent people, your brothers in faith.” His speech was followed by silence in the hall; his words had made a deep impression. Self-criticism is not so common at such conferences, which are usually about hypocrisy and eulogies, with others blamed for every problem.

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Retirement and death

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he melancholy post-Dayton years were passing, and with them, Izetbegović’s life. He was finding it harder and harder to perform his duties at the Presidency, feeling jaded and unable to concentrate. Ahead of the September 1998 elections, he thought seriously about not standing. In May that year he wrote a letter addressed to “my friends” and sent it to some thirty people, expressing his wish to retire, but his party colleagues were of the view that the pre-election period was not the best time to do so. So the decision was postponed until the new millennium, until 2 June 2000. It was on a Friday, on his way back from juma prayers, that Izetbegović made the irrevocable decision to retire. He called an acquaintance, Senad Hadžifejzović, the editor of RTVBiH, and agreed a time for the announcement of this important new: Tuesday 6 June 2000. At 19.30 Izetbegović appeared on TVBiH News and read the following statement: “Dear citizens of Bosnia and Herzegovina, I should like to tell you of my decision to retire from the Presidency of Bosnia and Herzegovina when my current term of office as chair expires, on 12 October this year... There are many reasons for this, but the main ones are my age (I shall be 75 in August) and my health. The job of member of the Presidency in these conditions requires physical and mental fitness, which I no longer enjoy. I thank all those who have supported me over the past ten difficult years. I hope that the dream of all Bosnian patriots of a unified, democratic and prosperous Bosnia and Herzegovina comes true.” After his statement, the news anchor, Hadžifejzović, put two questions to him. First, what did he regard as his greatest achievement, to which he replied, independence for Bosnia and Herzegovina. “In 1991-1992 there was a real danger that Bosnia and Herzegovina would become a province of ’Greater Serbia.’ I prevented that from happening, and regarded it as my greatest achievement.” The second question was the logical outcome of the first: what did Izetbegović regard as his greatest failure. “The slow process of establishing a unified, democratic and prosperous Bosnia and Herzegovina in peacetime,” he replied. When his term of office came to an end, Izetbegović cleared his desk in the Presidency building where he had worked for almost 109

ten years. It was 15 October 2000. “I don’t like partings, but I felt no sadness,” he wrote in his memoirs. Summing up his life, he wrote: “If I were offered the chance of another life, I would refuse. But if I had to be born again, I would choose the life I have had.” He continued his political activities at the SDA offices, principally writing his memoirs and receiving guests. Almost every world statesman who came to Bosnia and Herzegovina included a visit to Izetbegović in his agenda. Soon, however, disease overpowered his body, and Alija had to go to hospital. As though preparing himself for death, one by one all his current and former friends came to visit, along with a number of world figures such as US President Bill Clinton and Turkey’s Prime Minister Erdogan, who made a special landing in Sarajevo to visit his friend in hospital. Alija Izetbegović died on 29 October 2003. That day and the next, it was as though the skies had fallen on Bosnia’s capital city. Long queues of people from Bosnia and Herzegovina, along with numerous delegations from every corner of the world, wanted to pay their last respects. Alija Izetbegović was buried in the Shahid’s cemetery at Kovači in Sarajevo.

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