Bosnia-Herzegovina

Baroness Mobarik Excerpts

Thursday 16th December 2021 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Mobarik (Con)]

My Lords, I am grateful to my noble friend Lord Bourne of Aberystwyth for securing this debate at a critical time for Bosnia-Herzegovina. In six months’ time, we may see another descent into war.

If noble Lords will permit, I will first recount a memory which haunts me to this day, and which I believe is important to this debate. I travelled to Bosnia in November 1996, after the Dayton peace agreement, having spent much time during the conflict years raising money for humanitarian aid and, after the horror of Srebrenica, calling for UN intervention as part of a group founded by some of us in Glasgow known as the “Save the Bosnian People Campaign”.

Still with no direct flights to Bosnia, I travelled to Zagreb in Croatia to meet members of the team of Edinburgh Direct Aid, a charity we had used to deliver aid to Bosnia. I declare an interest as patron of EDA. From Zagreb, we travelled by road to the town of Ključ in north-western Bosnia-Herzegovina. Devastation paved the way. Every one of the 34 mosques in the Una-Sana Canton had been dynamited to rubble. No house was left intact—they were covered with bullet holes and without windows or door frames—not even the one where we stayed in the village of Biljani. Some plastic sheeting from UNHCR was all that acted as a barrier from the bitter cold.

The next day, we received a call from the mayor’s office, as he knew that foreigners were present in the town. He asked if we could meet him; it was important, as he needed us to see something. He had something to tell the world—for us to be witnesses to the truth. The chairman of Edinburgh Direct Aid, Dr Denis Rutovitz, and I, along with Feho Botonjić, who had spent six months in the Manjača concentration camp, reached the appointed place, the outskirts of a forest in a mountainous region some 14 kilometres from Ključ. Then accompanied by the mayor, Amir Avdić, we walked into the heart of the forest with its towering trees.

We came upon a strange scene. There was a wooden table where four or five exhausted young men, not more than 17 or 18 years old, were sitting eating their meal. Beside them lay bundles wrapped in black plastic sheeting laid out in a row. A few hundred yards across from them were people around a gaping hole and down below, as we approached, we saw that there were more young men digging many metres below to extract what was there and haul up, by ropes, one by one, the evidence of the brutality that had visited that forest several years before. The bodies of 188 people, some of whom had been beaten and killed outside the local primary school in Biljani, and others taken alive and loaded onto buses in July 1992, and whose whereabouts had been unknown, were there in that dark abyss.

The townsmen who had gone hunting in the forest after the war had noticed that the natural crater, 20 metres deep, that had been there was now filled in and covered over with earth. It rang alarm bells, so they started digging, only to discover those 188 people who had seemingly vanished. The strange, unfamiliar, bitter-sweet scent that shrouded the forest now made sense—it was of human remains long since decayed. It pervaded the forest, and my consciousness, long after we left. The bodies were transferred to the school hall for identification by those who had missing family members. Among them, the oldest was an 85-year-old man; the youngest were a four month-old baby and a young girl in her teens. “The sweetest, prettiest, kindest girl”, lamented Ramis and Raifa, our hosts: “How is it possible?”

It is too often possible, as history tells us, for perfectly normal people to descend into such barbarism. If the language of division is used as a weapon to bring out the worst in people and to deliberately incite hatred, it is all too possible. We face that scenario once again in the Republic of Bosnia-Herzegovina. If our humanity means anything to us, we must act to prevent another inhumane situation—another genocide in the heart of Europe.

In 1992, the world watched and waited and ignored the deteriorating political situation, the reports of mass killings, until eventually the scale of the genocide in Srebrenica awoke us to a truth we could no longer ignore. Alongside the physical devastation lay a devastated economy. The factories I visited in Sarajevo lay mostly empty, with owners struggling to revive their businesses. All the export markets, for leather shoes, timber and textiles to Germany, Italy and elsewhere, had been lost during the years of conflict. I ask whether we could have done more to ensure the economic success of Bosnia-Herzegovina.

Some 25 years on, many of the villages lie empty. Opportunities are few. Half a million of the brightest and best have left in the last decade, and in recent years the institutions of government, which should have been strengthened in order to build on a fragile peace, have instead, in the last 10 years, been eroded by the political leadership of the Bosnian Serb region, Republika Srpska, with the President, Milorad Dodik, questioning the legitimacy of the Bosnian institutions—the Bosnian army, security services, tax system and judiciary. Last Saturday, on 11 December, the Bosnian Serb entity of the assembly voted for a set of provisions which would see the regional government opt out of these national institutions, in clear contravention of the Dayton peace agreement—this despite the threat of sanctions by the US and Europe. It is clear that this confidence is partly because Dodik has the backing of Russia, as he has more or less made clear.

The Opposition leader in Republika Srpska, Mirko Šarović, has said that secession would be

“a direct threat to peace, which would lead Republika Srpska into the spiral of war.”

We cannot allow that to happen. If we care nothing for what happens to Bosnia, let us ask ourselves: can we afford another refugee crisis? At this moment, we have a small window of opportunity. The proposals that have been voted through require new laws and changes to the constitution within a six-month period. We can no longer ignore what is happening and time is of the essence. We support it and were deeply involved in the Dayton peace agreement. We must uphold it, and the constitutional integrity of Bosnia-Herzegovina. The Dayton peace agreement was by no means perfect, but nevertheless has provided peace.

When you look at the geography you realise that there is no clean separation of the territory, as Dodik proposes. In parts of the country, villages are entangled along ethnic lines. Let us for a moment remember that in Bosnia in the early 1990s, the people were completely integrated. They spoke the same language, went to school together and worked side by side in the same factories and offices. They socialised with each other. The only thing that was different between them was their names. When I spoke to the citizens of Ključ and of Sarajevo they said, “We were targeted simply because of our Muslim names”.

When Dodik and others refuse to define Srebrenica as a genocide it means they have no regrets for what happened. The theory that the mass murders across Bosnia and genocide in Srebrenica the 1990s is a lie is espoused by a small percentage of people, not just in the Bosnian Republika Srpska, Serbia and Croatia but right across Europe. I heard such views in recent years from individuals I served alongside as a Member of the European Parliament. It is why organisations such as Remembering Srebrenica—I declare an interest as a patron—must be supported. Educating future generations about that miserable episode of European history is vital to a more caring, tolerant and peaceful society.

I am heartened to know that our Government are taking the current situation in Bosnia very seriously, having recently appointed to the role of special envoy to the Balkans Air Chief Marshal Sir Stuart Peach, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in 2006. There can be no one more qualified. This step is to be commended, but would my noble friend the Minister agree that this issue means that we leave every option on the table? Do we follow up on our interventions or do we walk away? Britain, as one of the signatories of the Dayton agreement and a participant in the NATO peacekeeping forces, has a clear duty to intervene and to persuade all its allies to intervene. We owe it to those 59 British soldiers who lost their lives and the many more who were injured in the 1990s war in Bosnia, to people such as Christine Witcutt, who was killed by a Serb bullet while delivering humanitarian aid to Bosnia on behalf of Edinburgh Direct Aid, and to our future generations, for whom we would wish a peaceful and prosperous Europe.