Kozluk: A Bosnian Story of Refugee Return

By Peter Lippman


	Fadil Banjanovic in the Kozluk village square (Photo P. Lippman).

MOST BOSNIAN Muslims consider Milorad Dodik, prime minister of the Serb-controlled half of Bosnia (the Republika Srpska, or RS), the worst thing since the late Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic. So why were returned refugees in the RS village of Kozluk singing and roasting lamb with Dodik last summer?

Kozluk, a village in the Zvornik municipality in the northeastern part of the Republika Srpska, is home to the charismatic refugee return leader Fadil Banjanovic. Before the war, Kozluk was populated predominantly by Bosniaks (Bosnian Muslims), and Banjanovic was already a leader of his fellow citizens. Along with them, he was displaced from the village by Serbian paramilitary formations sweeping through the eastern part of Bosnia in early 1992.

After the war, Banjanovic succeeded in leading his neighbors back home to Kozluk. The fact that, unlike many other prominent representatives of displaced communities, he himself moved back to the village confirmed the sincerity of his leadership. Then, last summer, Bosnian newspapers announced a celebration in Kozluk, where RS Prime Minister Dodik was to be the honored guest. Not usually on good terms with the Bosniaks, Dodik had approved reconstruction of the road and water supply to Kozluk.

Return to Kozluk began in 2001, and was mostly completed by 2003. Because the economy is poor in this region, however, some people from Kozluk work in Austria and other parts of Europe. Discrimination is part of the problem; in the nearby water-bottling factory, only 3 of 150 employees are Bosniaks. The rest are Serbs.

Reconstruction of services such as roads and water supply to returned Bosniak settlements is a widespread problem, due to the apartheid-like conditions under which the majority of the returning population lives. So it was surprising that Dodik had approved the reconstruction—and even more so that he was celebrating and feasting with the local population. Because I was interested in learning about Kozluk’s success, and curious about Banjanovic’s relationship with Dodik, I decided to visit Kozluk and talk to Banjanovic.

He met me in the modest village square that, together with a nearby café, served as his office. Banjanovic had just finished campaigning for a position on the Zvornik municipal council on the Social-Democratic Party (SDP) ticket, and posters with his likeness still lined the walls of the cafe and billboards on the square.

Banjanovic was in an expansive mood, celebrating the results of the elections, which had taken place the day before. His party had won two seats on the municipal council. As we talked, Banjanovic answered phone calls every few minutes; people from all over the country were calling to hear the election results and to congratulate him. He held forth about his victory on the phone, speaking as much for my benefit as anyone else’s.

“In Bosnia and Herzegovina, what happened, happened,” he stated. “Some say it was a religious war, or a civil war. I say that it was total aggression for a Greater Serbia and a Greater Croatia. But everyone was hurt in this war, regardless of whether they were Serb, Croat or Bosniak.

“After the war, I saw that the only solution was return. In 1996 and 1997 I helped organize return to Jusici. We mobilized, and we returned to Dugi Dio, to Mahala. The international community didn’t initiate any of this. There was obstruction. In those two years 13 people were killed, whether by bullets or bombs. Around 130 were put in the hospital.

“Return home means failure for the big nationalists, because it disturbs their plans if I live together with Serbs and Croats. The people who made war divided Bosnia, and then they did everything they could to prevent return. But they couldn’t stop it, because the desire of people to be near their hearth, and near their ancestors’ cemeteries, was too strong. So there has been return to around 50 villages in Zvornik municipality. In the region of northeastern Bosnia, there has been two-way return to around 600 localities.”

Banjanovic had much to do with this success.

An ink pen lying on the cafe table read “SNSD”—the initials of Dodik’s party. I asked Banjanovic if Dodik was obstructing return. “Dodik is not guilty,” he replied. “The international community is the problem. Return happened. Nothing could stop it. Here there were the strongest activists, and the most return. Why did people not return to Visegrad, Gorazde, and Foca? In Sarajevo the politicians did favors for displaced people so that they would stay there. On the other hand, in Tuzla they did not give one free place away to any displaced persons. It would have been a huge mistake to give people free places to stay there. If people had returned to more parts of this region, it is a question whether the RS would have continued to exist. We reduced the possibility for separatism.”

Banjanovic continued, “Return has prevented the division of Bosnia; we are a factor in the RS. And we know that there are good Serbs here. We have to help; we extend our hand. We don’t have to love each other, but we have to live together.”

Turning to the broader field of politics, Banjanovic noted, “At times Dodik threatens secession from Bosnia. But that does not have to happen, and in any case, he has helped us. We didn’t have a road, a hospital, or a water supply. He has made donations, and there will be a fruit-processing plant, and a factory for haberdashery. We went to Dodik with these projects. Now, we have our homes, the mosque, a school, and the road; we just need work.

“Dodik is a businessman; he understands development,”Banjanovic pointed out. “He controls the whole government in the RS, from the municipality to the entity level. His infrastructure is a fast train, and we have a place on it. Twenty thousand Bosniaks have returned to this municipality. There are Bosniaks in the municipal government, the police department, and the schools.”

Still, I remarked, Dodik nevertheless seemed to exert a very divisive influence in Bosnia. To which Banjanovic replied: “That is clear. But Dodik is a necessary evil. He was compelled to use the Serbian nationalist card. I am a friend of Dodik. We might clash, but our problem was the bad road, and he solved it.”

I was rather surprised by Banjanovic’s characterization of Dodik as a “friend,” but Banjanovic is a politician, dealing in the “art of the possible”—and that art includes calling powerful people “friends.” And while Dodik may be the most skilled political manipulator in all Bosnia, Banjanovic was, at least in a small way, succeeding in defeating Dodik’s separatist program.

As I prepared to leave, Banjanovic made a gift to me of his SNSD ink pen.

Peter Lippman is an independent human rights activist based in Seattle.