Canada left a mixed legacy in Bosnia
VISOKO, BOSNIA-HERZEGOVINA — Bats now have the run of a derelict tannery that was home for several years, in the mid-1990s, to thousands of Canadian UN peacekeepers stuck in the middle of a bizarre, malignant three-way fight between Bosnian Muslims, Serbs and Croats about 25 kilometres from Sarajevo.
It is hard today to find evidence that as many as 850 Canadian blue helmets at a time once lived and ran patrols from a building that was always a creepy place to call home and for which there is unlikely to be any feelings of nostalgia. The only traces linking CANBAT 2 to this factory are a couple of blue UN staircase banisters and red “fire point” signs that indicated the locations of emergency mustering points.
Everything about Canada’s home in Visoko was a bit odd. The Canadians pitched their tents inside the structure because the roof provided partial protection from Serb and sometimes Croat artillery salvos. Today, with all the windows blown out and the wind and rain blowing through, the dank interior would be an ideal set for a post-apocalyptic science-fiction movie.
Because of its strategic location on the northern approaches to Sarajevo, the Canadian base was a vital cog in the UN’s massive peacekeeping operation. Muslims used Visoko as their main logistical hub.
For this reason the town of 17,000 was of constant interest to Serbian gunners and of considerable interest to Croat gunners, too. Shelling sometimes put their lives in danger, but it was often much more frustrating for the Canadians to deal with the Muslims.
Visoko’s freedom was so vital to Sarajevo’s survival that the Muslims sometimes effectively turned the Canadians into hostages by ringing their base with landmines and by preventing food and water from reaching them or Canadian observers in remote watchtowers. This was done, so the Muslims said, out of fear that the Canadians would pass on information to their enemies about the disposition of their troops and their movements.
Some locals could not recall that Canadians had ever been in their midst. Others were polite about the Canadian presence but clearly knew little about it and were, understandably, far more haunted by their own traumas during those years of brutal vengeance. There was also some puzzlement about what the Canadians achieved.
“People have good memories of the UN forces, and in this case of the Canadians,” said Faruk Hodzic, who fled to Visoko as a teenager at the height of the war. He said it was one of the few safe places he could hide after Serbs murdered his father while ethnically cleansing the family’s hometown of Rogatica.
“In these parts, it was the Serbs who behaved more horribly, but I had trouble with the Croats,” said a Muslim shopkeeper who would not give his name. He said he still fears recriminations after escaping from a Croatian jail in Kiseljak, a nearby town, during the war.
“I had no contact with any Canadian soldiers. In fact, I did not know they were here. So I can’t tell you what I don’t know about whether they were good (or) bad. We saw so many UN vehicles come by. But all I could think about at that time was how to find food for my three daughters.”
Ekrem Dzonlagic, who ran away from the town of Foca when it was occupied by Serbs in 1993, said it was the Canadians in Visoko who helped keep him and his mother alive during the war.
“Visoko was like heaven and Sarajevo was like hell,” the retired 75-year-old cinema manager recalled as he and about 10 other Muslim men chain-smoked their way through packs of cigarettes in the Caffe Harry. “We were lucky to be part of a group which the Canadians helped. I went several times to the Canadian camp for food. They would give us canned beef and rice. But you know, in all that time, I never once spoke to any of them.”
Amra Ferzan was not quite so generous about the Canadians.
“I think that they were surprised when they came here,” said Ferzan, who was raising young children at the time. “They did not see or understand the whole picture. Of course even our own people often could not understand what was going on.”
Asked for a more personal assessment of what the Canadians had achieved during their years around Visoko, the 50-year-old English teacher continued: “I don’t think they managed very well because I don’t think they expected what happened here. Every soldier who came to Bosnia did something good for Bosnia. I know that. But probably we expected more from them …
“They were confused. I can say that. Personally, I felt sorry for them because they were in something that they did not understand.
“And they tried to manage as best they could. I knew a few of them and spoke with them. They did not have the right picture of Bosnia at all. Why were they sent here? That is another question.”