SURVIVING THE PEACE

The Struggle for Postwar Recovery in Bosnia-Herzegovina

 

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January 11, 2020
Fun and games in Bosnian politics

National parliamentary and state-level elections took place in Bosnia-Herzegovina in early October, 2018. But the new government based on that election's results was only formed last month, more than a year after the election. Why did it take so long?

While in Bosnia last summer I asked a number of smart people why, but I never got a particularly incisive answer. I think this is not only because the delay was not perceived as a big deal by many people—that it was just more of the same dreadfully boring manipulation by politicians who are perceived as corrupt and self-serving pretty much across the board. In a state where ongoing dysfunction is characterized as "isto sranje, drugo pakovanje" (same b.s., different day), people can hardly be blamed for not following national politics very closely.

Probably the most relevant answer I got was that politicians were jockeying for control of state-run firms. This is one of the great advantages of high-level connections in a strankokratija (party-ocracy), where political parties that join the ruling coalition receive not only ministerial positions, but managerial ones as well—and those remaining in the opposition get bupkes (goat droppings--Yiddish, not Bosnian).

There are other factors to examine, and that examination and a recounting of events leading up to the formation of the government, first of all, reveal interesting information about the nature of the Bosnian state, and secondly, provide a circus-like show at the outcome.

That year that the new government was not able to be formed was a frustrating one, in some ways, for Milorad Dodik, Serb member of the state-level three-part presidency. It was his party, the SNSD, that handily won the 2018 elections, and yet he was unable to install his favorites in a new Council of Ministers (something like our Cabinet in the US). For over a year he had to tolerate the presence of members of the Republika Srpska opposition parties in power, people from the SDS (the former party of Radovan Karadžić and main Bosnian prosecutor of the Serb side of the war), and from the PDP, another opposition party.

A note about those two parties: Both are Serb nationalist parties loyal to the Republika Srpska above all, though not to Dodik, who has been supreme ruler of that entity ever since 2006, regardless of his position, first as prime minister, then as president, and now as high official at the state level. Dodik's position hasn't mattered because he's remained the boss of the SNSD all along, and has been a masterful demagogue and manipulator of fear and division in his entity. For many years the opposition figures have not been able to mount a definitive assault on Dodik's position and on his political infrastructure, though they've tried mightily. They have come close to victory at times; it's true that they won elections at the state level in 2014, leading to the presence of SDS and PDP figures at high levels until now.

So what stopped Dodik from making compromises with the Bosniak and Croat nationalist parties (mainly, respectively, the SDA and HDZ) in order to form a new government? The ANP, that is, the "Annual National Program" meant to be submitted to NATO. The SDA insisted all along on the drafting of the ANP, which would tell NATO how Bosnia was coming along in its reform processes and how it was going to continue along that path in the next year.

The ANP is one formal step in joining NATO, but in itself it is not equivalent to an application to the alliance. But this is the kind of thing that can be interpreted differently by whoever cares to analyze it—especially if they have a political axe to grind. It's like the three blind men and the elephant. Dodik regarded the ANP as anathema because it could be interpreted as an application to NATO by his opponents in RS politics—and no one in the RS forgets that NATO was involved in bombing Serbia in 1999. On the other hand, Croat and Bosniak politicians, wishing to join NATO, could interpret it as an application.

Therein lies at least part of the obstacle to formation of the government. In any case, last summer SDA President Bakir Izetbegović offered to draft a "reduced ANP" with Dodik. This was described as the "minimum that would satisfy Brussels (the headquarters of NATO)" and would free up a new Bosnian government to tend to less symbolic and more important things like pensions, improving the living standard, attracting investment, etc. But Dodik wasn't hearing it. The well-being of Bosnia's citizenry has never been his long suit, in any case.

A couple of months later the terminology was switched and what had been called the ANP (or "reduced" ANP) began to be called the "Reform Program." This not-quite-Orwellian euphemism could further be interpreted according to any commentator's political agenda, and you can be sure it was, when in late November Dodik saw fit to join with the Croat and Bosniak members of the presidency and sign the letter. With this move, Dodik also nominated his former finance minister Zoran Tegeltija as president of the Council of Ministers, equivalent to a prime minister.

Thereupon members of the SDS and PDP vamped on Dodik energeticall
y—you could even say joyfully, as he had given them a gift like Christmas in November. It was a rare opportunity for the opposition to unanimously accuse Dodik of being a traitor because he had sold out (among other things, his long-term flirt with Russia and his pals-y relationship with Putin) to the (Western) enemy. I don't really believe that the SDS would have done differently in Dodik's position; indeed, when that outfit was in power in the 2000s, they made many concessions to the West just to stay in position. But here was a chance for the opposition to make big waves. As it happened, they made quite a commotion.

There followed a free-for-all prepucavanje (slanging match, firing squad) of criticism of Dodik and his party, with the opposition accusing Dodik of "treason via one signature" for having "completely disenfranchised the RS" by approving the Reform Program.

Journalist Slobodan Vasković, a lone operator and not a member of the opposition, declared that Dodik had rendered himself useless in the future as a leader of the RS. He said, "No one needs him anymore. He did what the West needed from him; he accepted that which Russia had sought for him not to accept. For once in his political life he did the right thing, fulfilling a state obligation by signing the ANP and opening wide Bosnia's way into NATO. And because of that he was then compelled to return urgently to lies and untruths, manipulation, cheap spin, and useless denial that he had just trampled over everything for which he had advocated for a decade and a half."

President of SDS Mirko Šarović stated that Dodik had turned over what should be RS competencies to the state-level government by signing the document which, he asserted, "stated in many places that Euro-Atlantic integration was one of the foreign affairs goals of Bosnia" and that Bosnia was thus taking on the obligation not only to participate in joint military exercises with NATO, but also in military interventions in foreign countries.

Šarović conjectured that Dodik had acted to please the US government because "someone from America promised to remove sanctions" against him. And in that vein, around this time Dodik performed some heartfelt butt-kissing when he sent a letter to the US President—just after Trwmp was impeached—saying that "those who perform a coup against him are endangering basic human values for which the American president had fought." The letter continued with more patriotic claptrap, expressing "full support" for the president. Dodik brought accusations of plagiarism upon himself by repeating the US president's words, "The future belongs not to globalists; the future belongs to patriots...". Voice of America, commenting on this letter, stated that the US administration ignores such attempts at endearment and will maintain sanctions against Dodik and his colleagues.

Meanwhile, the state-level presidency, having sent a "Reform Program" to NATO, had refused to reveal its contents to the public or to any political officials until Parliament approved the nomination of Zoran Tegeltija. So much for democracy—and in the case of Tegeltija, so much for honesty. Previously Dodik's minister of finance in the Republika Srpska, Tegetltija had presided over the crash-and-burn of the RS-based Balkan Investment Bank and, before that, the laying waste of the important Birač aluminum company by a Lithuanian "investor"; these were just two in an ongoing series of notable instances of grand larceny by companies and cronies favored by Dodik's government, and both events took place under Tegeltija's watch.

It's also interesting that Tegetltija finished his Masters degree at age 45, and his doctorate two years later, in 2008. It's unavoidable to wonder how he pulled this off while working in government at that age, especially given that high officials in many parts of Bosnia have been buying diplomas left and right ever since the war. This is a documented scandal, but a story for another time.

As it happened, the politicians of Bosnia installed Tegeltija as state-level prime minister; it would be hard to expect anything such as honesty in government. That would require the removal of all or 95% of current parliamentary officials and, probably, the abolition of all their nationalist parties. As the irreverent and irreplaceable Croatian journalist/commentator Viktor Ivančić said recently, "We must remove from government every one of these morons who have been ruling for years in all the [former Yugoslav] countries; nationalism has triumphed so much on all sides that it has become a way of life." That's a great idea, but we can't expect those in power to act against their own privilege. The turkey does not vote for Thanksgiving.

Meanwhile, Dodik and his cronies, in the spinovanje (spin operation) described above by Vasković, insisted they were saying "no" to NATO and that Bosnia would never become a member. RS President Željka Cvijanović asserted that "the Reform Program had nothing to do with an ANP," and that it was sent to NATO because there was "no other place where it could be sent." And Dodik turned on the opposition, saying "It's a fact that it was the SDS that threw Radovan Karadžić out of their party, not me. Remember that I went to The Hague as witness for Karadžić and Ratko Mladić, and not you [the opposition]."

So you had a situation where the opposition was climbing all over Dodik and his party to prove that they, the opposition, were better RS patriots and more anti-West than Dodik & co., with Dodik trying to ride two horses at once: one charging against the West, and one pushing back at the opposition. Although he had dug a bit of a hole for himself, he not only remained in power (for now), but he expanded his power via the arrangement to place his lapdogs Tegeltija and others in ministerial power at the state level.

Šarović and Minister of Security Dragan Mektić are opposition leaders who have demonstrated some concrete ability in statecraft; unlike Dodik, they have both taken measures for the stability and betterment of the entire country. They have taken Bosnia-Herzegovina seriously as a state, instead of declaring its eventual demise, as Dodik regularly does—now, ironically, from his position as member of that state's presidency. "Pro-Bosnia" politicians and activists have, to some extent, regarded these two figures with approval, though with some reservations. Now Šarović and Mektić et al have justified those reservations as they have vociferously argued against NATO membership from an RS-centric position.

The opposition further lambasted Dodik's apparatus when the latter finally provided something resembling the document sent to NATO. However, parliament was provided with a 21-page document, and the original was 53 pages long. This simply reinforced the sentiment that Dodik was putting something over on parliament.

Enter Draško Stanivuković, a young man from Banja Luka, born during the war (1993), and educated in economics. He has participated in politics as a member of the PDP successfully enough to become the youngest member of the RS Parliament. He is an active figure, part gadfly, part brat, and perhaps somewhat brave, or at least nervy. He has gotten in Dodik's face literally and figuratively numerous times over the last couple of years, distinguishing himself by participating prominently in the "Pravda za Davida" (Justice for David) campaign the year before last (see my report from 2018 for information on this episode). His prominence has earned him enemies; someone bombed his brother's car, which he was using, and he has been hauled before court several times as well for various antics.

Well, an incident brought on by such antics in Parliament earned Stanivuković more notoriety, in the course of which he gave members of Dodik's phalanx the opportunity to make themselves look intemperate, foolish, and brutal. It happened, in late December during a special session of the Parliament, that Stanivuković strutted around in front of the hall waving miniature NATO flags in the faces of Dodik's colleagues. It was not long before Dodik's Minister of Interior for RS, Dragan Lukač, became fed up and admonished Stanivuković, saying, among other things, "Stanivuković, you have to comprehend some things. Never do that again..." or you will end up badly, he threatened. Stanivuković asked how he would end up, and Lukač invited him to step closer.

Stanivuković came over to Lukač, who first threw some torn up pieces of paper in Stanivuković's face, and then punched him in the mouth. This brought the Parliamentary session to a quick close, and led to further prepucavanje between the two sides. Lukač denied that he had punched Stanivuković, saying that he had only pushed him away to protect himself.
Banja Luka social commentator Srđan Puhalo liked the scene to a reality show, and clarified the scenario, explaining that Lukač had thrown paper in Stanivuković's face as a feint in order to get him to make a motion to defend himself, which would then give Lukač an excuse to attack. But Stanivuković did not make a move, and all this has been recorded on video available on YouTube.

You can see it all here
. And you can see what a badass chief cop Lukač is. Every photo I see of his doberman pincer face has the same scowl and military crewcut. He looks like the perfect enforcer. In the video you can also see a woman rushing to Stanivuković's defense; that's Jelena Trivić, fellow member of PDP. In patriarchal Bosnia men are supposed to defend women, not the other way 'round.

Violence in the highest legislative body in any land seems to take place when things are particularly unstable. Recall the caning of abolitionist US Senator Charles Sumner by a pro-slavery senator from South Carolina in 1856. More recently there has been brawling in the Ukrainian parliament (December, 2018—here) and even in the nearby Serbian parliament just last month (here).

After the incident in Parliament, Stanivuković went to the emergency clinic to have his face examined, since he was bleeding in the mouth. When he explained that he had been hit, the medical caregivers told him he must go to the police to give a report. Reading this, I was struck by the legalistic efficiency of the state as represented by functionaries in the Republika Srpska. It's an apparatus that values "dignity," too: after the incident, members of the opposition demanded the removal of Dragan Lukač, calling for
"dignity and reputation in our highest law-making body."

If only the people who created the RS through expulsion, plunder, and mass murder had tended to legality, dignity, and reputation from 1992 to 1995. But, the RS in its clean and orderly facade is not so different from any other gangster operation-cum state.

After the incident in parliament, the opposition called for a protest demonstration in Mladen Stojanović park, the largest one in Banja Luka and a customary protest spot. Dodik's people responded by calling for a demonstration of support on the same day, in the same park. When both happened, a strong police presence kept the two groups apart. The pro-government demonstration amounted to several hundred people, while about 2,000 people attended the protest.

One last point in this blog that has gotten a bit lengthy: there are people who, in spite of his perceived bravery, are unhappy with Stanivuković and his colleagues because of their failure to take any stand on the atrocities that were committed in the 1990s in order to make their beloved entity a reality. In fact Stanivuković's protector and fellow PDP member, Jelena Trivić, has proudly declared herself an admirer of the WWII Chetnik leader Draža Mihailović, a Serbian leader who collaborated with the Nazis, committed murderous rampages through Muslim communities in eastern Bosnia, and was summarily executed by Tito's forces soon after the end of that war.

Countering the criticism of Stanivuković, some human rights activists in the RS have pointed out that for him to take a stand on genocide would mean the end of his otherwise useful political career in that entity. It's a dilemma. Human rights in the RS are in dilemma. Bosnia-Herzegovina is a dilemma.