Berkley Center

Along with my "Humanitarian Law" class, I visited Bosnia and Herzegovina in late March to learn more about the Bosnian War of the early 1990s. In many ways, this conflict is the perfect case study for analyzing the complementary roles of politics and religion. Three major ethnic groups lived in Bosnia and Herzegovina, none of which constituted a majority of the population. According to the 1991 census, Bosniak Muslims made up about 40 percent of the population, Serbs were 30 percent, and Croats were about 20 percent. With the death of Tito and the demise of the Soviet Union, this delicate ethnic balance seemed like volatile mix, destined to explode.

It is difficult to approach this issue without certain preconceived notions. At the surface, it seems that Bosniaks, Serbs, and Croats harbored an inherent antagonism, rooted in the different beliefs, histories, and cultures that make up their identities. Religion is a very divisive issue, since it concerns some of the most fundamental questions about human existence. The Bosnian War certainly has some characteristics of a religious conflict—in fact, they are so visceral that it is impossible to ignore them. Perhaps the most striking is the video of Ratko Mladic, a general in the Army of the Republic of Srpska, just hours after taking over the village of Srebrenica:

"Here we are, on July 11, 1995, in Serbian Srebrenica, just before a great Serb holy day. We give this town to the Serb Nation. Remembering the uprising against the Turks […] the time has come to take revenge on the Muslims."

In the days that followed, Mladic oversaw the massacre of 8,000 Bosniak men and the forced evacuation of many other women and children.

Religion remains a divisive issue even in the war’s aftermath. Just as the Bosniaks, Croats, and Serbs were often targeted and killed separately, they are also buried separately. There are no common gravesites or memorials to the victims, as they tend to be buried along with others of the same ethnic background. For example, the grave markers of Bosniaks are inscribed with passages from the Qur'an, and the endless rows of white markers at Srebrenica and Sarajevo are strong religious symbols. In addition, the political organization of post-war Bosnia is ethnically divided. Three presidents rule at the same time—one Bosniak, one Croat, and one Serb. Since each president seeks to promote the interests of his own ethnic group, there is much disagreement and gridlock on the executive level, as the current debate over enforcing EU sanitary rules indicates. The territorial boundaries of the country reinforce these ethnic divides; whereas the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina contains mostly Bosniaks and Croats, the Republic of Srpska largely consists of Bosnian Serbs—many of whom are more loyal to their Serbian neighbor. This is reflected in their conflicting approach to political and judicial issues, such as their biased coverage of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia’s prosecution of Ratko Mladic.

Although religious divisions are certainly present, political factors are equally important. In fact, many of the politicians, students, and religious leaders in Sarajevo quickly denied that it was a religious war. Serbian Orthodox Deacon Mitar Tanasic said confidently: “It was not a religious war. It was just war. We [religious leaders] had conferences and calls for peace, but the politicians would not listen.” Catholic Croat priest Mato Zovkic echoed this sentiment, describing how it was a war of all against all—Bosniaks fought Serbs, Serbs fought Croats, Bosniaks fought Bosniaks, and so on.

In addition, there are many examples of different ethnic groups working together. In Sarajevo, Jewish community leader Jakob Finci praised the successful soup kitchen, where the cooks, doctor, secretary, and other administrators all worked together regardless of ethnicity. Indeed, it was difficult to even distinguish the ethnicities from one another, as Bosniaks, Croats, Serbs, and Jews had been living as neighbors for centuries. Friendships endured, even if they did not practice the same religion. One student recalled how his grandfather was saved from execution by his Serbian neighbor, who threw him into the long grass of a nearby field when no one was looking.

In fact, religion and ethnicity are becoming less significant in determining identity. Bosniak students admitted that they felt dissociated from their religious background—preferring to call themselves “Bosnians” instead of Bosniaks. In fact, some even admitted they were non-religious, abandoning their Islamic practices altogether. As one commentator put it, the three sides are “of the same race, speak the same language, and are distinguished only by their religion—in which none of them believe.”

Ultimately, it appears that the Bosnian War resulted from both politics and religion—not religion alone. Although the actors can sometimes be separated by religion, the course of the war was largely couched in political terms, and action was often initiated from the top-down. For example, to counter Bosnia’s referendum on independence, Bosnian Serb members of Parliament encouraged their constituents to boycott the vote. Many of the goals of the war were political, as Serbia—still claiming to represent Yugoslavia—sought to bring Bosnia back into political union. To complement military strategy, leaders on all sides manipulated ethnic identities to foment nationalism, as well as to justify their violence. Inter-ethnic tensions were often instigated by leaders’ rhetoric, as is evident in Ratko Mladic’s statements at Srebrenica. As one student in Sarajevo boldly declared, “The older politicians are teaching us to hate each other…they need to die.”

Though perhaps his conclusion is a bit rash, it does provide an opposite perspective to the question of causation. Religious diversity does exist in Bosnia. However, it did not necessarily cause the Bosnian War—nor is conflict an inevitable product of diversity.