Memory and Responsibility - Conversations about Srebrenica

In 2025, we mark the thirtieth anniversary of the end of the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The war was concluded with the signing of the General Framework Agreement for Peace in Bosnia and Herzegovina in Dayton, on November 21, 1995.

That same year also marks the thirtieth anniversary of the genocide in Srebrenica — the first genocide in Europe to be legally recognized after the Second World War.

In 2025, for thirty years now, we have been commemorating, remembering, mourning, searching, questioning, reflecting, responding, and reminding — because, as Heinrich Böll wrote 

“There is nothing that does not concern us.”.

The Heinrich Böll Foundation offices in Sarajevo and Belgrade prepared an interview with Edin Omerčić and Dragan Popović, historians from Sarajevo and Belgrade, in which you will find their answers to some of the questions about Srebrenica.

What is the role of historical scholarship regarding the 1995 genocide in Srebrenica, and how should research and writing about the genocide and the wars of the 1990s be approached?

Edin Omerčić: Its role is to pose (new) questions that have not yet been addressed in scholarship, and through research to open up fresh perspectives on the issues of war and genocide. The aim is not to demonstrate an originality of approach or arrive at surprising conclusions, but rather to shed new light on tragic past events. Research must be available to the public, and one must be prepared for criticism, and open to scholarly dialogue.

Dragan Popović: The genocide in Srebrenica has enormous significance for people who live in Bosnia and Herzegovina and Serbia, and more broadly throughout Europe and the rest of the world. It is also exceptionally important to scholarship generally, not only historiography. Researching topics that part of society perceives as polarising or provocative entails both professional and personal risk. Professionally, historians may encounter resistance from their own colleagues, or hostility from academic institutions on which their livelihood depends. On a personal level, an honest approach to subjects such as the Srebrenica genocide can bring discomfort in public life, and provoke attacks in the media. None of this, however, changes the work of a historian – at least not one who writes in line with professional ethics and standards. A historian should evaluate sources, draw conclusions, and provide an analysis of events. From this perspective, writing about the 1990s requires the same knowledge, dedication, and professional integrity as engaging with any other historical period.

Historians and other researchers have at their disposal various sources, including living witnesses, survivors, perpetrators and participants, observers, media reports (foreign and domestic), as well as transcripts, domestic court rulings, and the complete body of evidence – including verdicts – from the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY). How, and in which direction, should scholars move forward?

Edin Omerčić: That’s true, and each of these groups of sources has its own perspective on past events, which must be analysed, compared, and interpreted. As far as I know, the documentation on the 1990s available in the ICTY databases is more extensive than that on any other period in human history. It is through those databases – that universe of court records that has now stopped expanding – that we are able to investigate the events of the 1990s in Yugoslavia, which are still yet to be fully explored. This is material that continues to offer answers even to new questions posed by researchers and historians.

By their nature, court verdicts in part provide positivistically ordered facts and answers to questions posed by legal experts. Historians can use them as sources and chronological aids, but must not ask or answer the same questions the legal expert has already resolved; instead, they must pose new ones.

Now, 35 years since the beginning of the war in Yugoslavia, we should be able to draw at least some conclusions. I don’t know whether, or to what extent, we have learned anything. We ought to be able to ask certain questions and gain scientific answers. Why did the war break out? How can we prevent bloodshed in similar situations in future? 

But science – especially historical science – is not a guiding force in this region.

Dragan Popović: The events of the 1990s Yugoslav wars have not been sufficiently researched, at least not to the extent one would expect given their enormous impact on numerous European and global developments, and on history in general – not only political and diplomatic history, but also social, cultural and intellectual history, and all other historiographic areas. This is especially true of individual crimes, including the genocide in Srebrenica.

Despite the large number of sources and pieces of evidence, professional historians – particularly in the former Yugoslav region – tend to avoid this topic in an escapist manner. This is partly because of the previously mentioned reasons: the personal and professional risks associated with taking on such explosive social issues. Another part of the problem lies in the dominance of essayistic and journalistic writing, which, during the 1990s, took it upon itself to describe and analyse the Yugoslav wars.

Scientific methodology lends credibility to conclusions, and helps prevent a slide into sensationalism and bias – at least if applied according to professional standards. That’s why it is essential that Srebrenica, like all other crimes – including its many aspects that can and must be examined through the methodological lens of various academic disciplines – be studied more thoroughly, and in greater detail. Of course, there has been progress, and in recent years we have seen the emergence of important books and debates on particular aspects of the genocide, including its denial and relativisation.

Is it possible to write about 20^th-century history without mentioning the genocide in Bosnia and Herzegovina? Are historical research and the study of the 1990s genocide merely a local – or, nowadays, regional – topic, or should this crime and its context be part of European historiography, i.e., the study and teaching of 20^th-century European history?

Edin Omerčić: It is possible, of course, depending on the perspective from which the author is writing such a history, and for which audience. The author decides how to write the text, and which criteria to follow. But on the other hand, what will we really achieve if the Srebrenica genocide appears in history textbooks throughout the world, but the causes and process of the genocide are not adequately explained; if the rigid patriarchal patterns in our education systems are not at least partially dismantled or made visible; if our textbooks are not demilitarised; if we fail to point out the clear red line that runs from Heracles’ return from the battlefield all the way to femicide?

This topic is, of course, not just regional – it is universally human. Studying the genocide in Srebrenica can help other researchers of genocidal processes around the world be seen and understood. And of course, the reverse is also true – global research can help Srebrenica become more visible, with the ultimate goal of preventing future violence and conflict.

Dragan Popović: The genocide in Srebrenica has unquestionable relevance throughout the world, but especially in Europe. Even at the time it was committed, it shocked the world into a kind of collision with reality. The grandly proclaimed “end of history” and the final triumph of values such as democracy and human rights were confronted with the reality of Srebrenica, and the partial destruction of a national community in the heart of Europe.

Srebrenica – like the entire war in Bosnia and Herzegovina – tested the effectiveness of the international community, particularly the United Nations. Many new mechanisms were conceived because of this war, from protected zones to international criminal tribunals. The genocide in Srebrenica significantly influenced the development of international law and international relations, and had a substantial impact on other fields of study. Advances in forensic anthropology and revolutionary methods of DNA analysis that are now widely used to identify human remains are, in a sense, a consequence of the Srebrenica genocide. In short: this genocide was never a local or regional issue. It was a global phenomenon that marked a turning point after the late 1980s and early 1990s, and the wave of democratisation that swept through at that time.

How do we deal with the absence of war, while war rhetoric and hate speech remain ever-present? To what extent are today’s ideological-mythological narratives – produced even by professionals – relativising the past, and mobilising populations for potential future wars?

Edin Omerčić: In the absence of war, we should be building peace, not questioning it. The media, journalists, and now influential social media accounts that spread war rhetoric bear a great responsibility. Even simple steps, like the “switch-off” method – choosing to disengage from such content or adjusting what we see online by changing the algorithm – can make a big difference. Of course, this is not a solution in itself, but it could make the echo of sabre-rattling less deafening, and potentially create space for a different, more peaceful rhythm. War rhetoric and hate speech become more frequent and intense in the lead-up to election campaigns. This kind of “cyber epic poetry”, this keyboard warfare, this battle through symbols aims to maintain the division between “Us” and “Them” in society – in other words it encourages the homogenisation of one’s own political, ethnic, or religious community. A single revisionist sentence in a history textbook doesn’t just reflect the ideological or political beliefs of its author – it reflects those of the entire academic and university system. And if that sentence isn’t based on facts, but falsifies, distorts, or omits past events, it can cause harm that no NGO will be able to undo. This is a matter of national, political, and societal interest. It is the responsibility of scholars to point out revisionist narratives, to critique them, and to correct them. Constantly. At all costs.

Dragan Popović: The politics that led to the war, and consequently the genocide in Srebrenica, relied primarily on the ideology of nationalism. This is a persistent and resilient ideology that does not simply disappear, but requires a daily struggle to at least limit its poisonous effects in society. The wars of the 1990s remain an important source of resentment for nationalists, and enable them to capture the “hearts and minds” of people. Only in an atmosphere of fear and the sense of an immediate threat from the “Other” and the different can nationalism dominate the public imagination, and rule the narrative. Today, just as in the 1980s, the nationalist ideology is maintained and promoted by authoritarian rulers – this time Vučić and Dodik. Nationalism in itself is not an attractive proposition on a societal scale, as it is an aggressive and toxic ideology. When promoted using public resources, however – including via controlled media – it becomes mainstream, and is presented to the population as a necessary form of protection in dangerous times of crisis. 

Nationalists often invoke history – or more precisely, the image of history they create and promote – as the collective memory of a society. 

They do so through historical revisionism and other methods that create a desired collective memory, while suppressing those elements that tarnish the nation’s ideal image. Historians are therefore crucial to every nationalist ideology, as they give the collective memory a scientific stamp by turning myths into history and painting the past in a rosy hue.

How has the continuity of genocide denial been ensured? What are the mechanisms of this denial, and how has it been systematically normalised over the last 30 years? 

Edin Omerčić: Denial is one of the final stages in the process of genocide, and here we must distinguish between two things: first, the denial of the crime itself, and second, the denial of court verdicts – that is, the refusal to accept responsibility for the crimes, and the perpetrators’ unwillingness to confront their accountability. The denial of the crime in Srebrenica began simultaneously with its commission, and has continued since. From the perpetrator’s perspective, it was not considered a crime at all – killing “Turks” was not seen as a criminal act, but as a victory over a centuries-old enemy. The genocide was therefore perceived as revenge for events from the medieval past, carried out on St. Peter’s Day (Petrovdan) in 1995. On July 12 that year, Radovan Karadžić stated on national television that the “liberation” of Srebrenica proved the superiority of Serbian arms, the Serbian army, and Serbian nobility. In other words, it draws on the concept of the Serb as a “superhuman”, and on the Serbian Svetosavlje ideological construct, developed in the 1930s.

The methods of genocide denial and avoiding responsibility for the crime have become increasingly subtle. They have undergone a metamorphosis, from outright refusal to accept responsibility; to blame-shifting onto the victim or the victim’s community; to various conspiracy theories that target those who would hold the perpetrators accountable; and finally, to highly refined, discreet forms of denial and relativisation. These newer forms can be studied by applying ethnolinguistic methods to para-literature, such as roadside billboards, or even children’s cartoons that present, in cheerful or “rosy” tones, place names associated with genocide, and the names of individuals linked to direct perpetrators.

Dragan Popović: The genocide against Bosniaks is denied, or at least relativised, in many ways, and, importantly, with different motivations. The most obvious deniers are Serbian nationalists, who deny the responsibility of their own political leadership, and paint their community’s past without the dark stains of crimes against others. In doing so, they again homogenise the nation, and portray it as a victim of conspiracy and a target for external enemies. This process gave rise to the phrase “a genocidal people”. The Serbian authorities promote the thesis that recognising the genocide in Srebrenica would amount to imposing collective guilt on the entire Serbian people. Collective guilt doesn’t exist anywhere – especially not in criminal law – and nor do “genocidal nations”, because the phrase in itself is meaningless, and has no place in scientific or legal discourse. Part of how fear is maintained, however, is by convincing people that danger lurks everywhere, and can approach from all directions. Unfortunately, Serbian nationalism is not the sole genocide denier. Some segments of the international public also deny the genocide against the Bosniaks, for their own reasons. Far-right movements use Srebrenica as an example of how the liberal global public manipulates facts to portray Muslims as victims. Further, self-proclaimed anti-imperialists – especially those opposed to American power – have made Srebrenica a subject of conspiracy theories. They believe, and attempt to “prove”, that the crime was fabricated as a means to justify interventions by major powers, which then secured economic, political, or other benefits. 

In this way, the genocide in Srebrenica has become a weapon in various conflicts around the world – including wars over how reality and political relations are interpreted, and wars over culture and identity – and an instrument of domestic politics for both right- and left-wing populists in a number of countries.

There have also been continuous, parallel voices calling for peace and anti-war actions, whose space in the public sphere is minimal, even though there have been moments when their presence seemed normalised. How did this situation arise, and who are the advocates of peace in Bosnia and Herzegovina and the region?

Edin Omerčić: A strong voice for peace has existed since the beginning of the wars in Yugoslavia, initially through local children’s initiatives that collected signatures against the war, and parents’ associations that tried to bring military conscripts home from the Yugoslav People’s Army (JNA). The space for these voices, however, was narrowed by the populist political classes in power, and by the cacophony of NGOs that “burned out” competing with each other for financial resources. These organisations were unable to grapple with what we call the Moloch of the nation. This situation exists because, as a society, we have yet to fully realise that it is political classes, not political elites, who hold power – people for whom engaging in politics and caring for society is tied to achieving personal financial gain. Any form of pandering to the interests of these classes, and any failure to insist on scientific principles, is disastrous for society.

Dragan Popović: The peace movements in Yugoslavia gave rise to a vibrant and courageous civil society that sought to impose confrontation of the past on their states, with the aim of preventing the repetition of war and war crimes. There were various initiatives, approaches, and debates, with all their ups and downs, but today it must be acknowledged that this movement was defeated. It left behind results, primarily in the valuable legacy of collected materials, and in the experiences of numerous actors that should neither be forgotten nor neglected. But the methods it employed are clearly not suited to the current times, and people are increasingly losing interest in the entire process. For those who believe that confronting the past is important, and can at least partially prevent the recurrence of crimes, this is a harsh but sobering truth. Lessons for the future must be drawn from such past experiences, and all valuable aspects should be preserved and passed down to new generations. The battle to confront the wartime past may be temporarily lost, but that certainly does not mean the entire process is over. New generations will undoubtedly find fresh motivations, and new ways to renew the struggle, and will apply methods better suited to the era they live in.

New political generations, and young people in general, are continuously leaving the region. With this – and the dominant educational policies – in mind, where does their responsibility lie in relation to the legacy of the 1990s wars? 

Edin Omerčić: Their responsibility lies in the fact that they often haven’t asked their own fathers (or grandfathers) the same question that the students of ’68 asked their parents: “What did you do? Where were you during the war?” If they did ask that question and received an honest answer, and then still did nothing – if, after asking the question and hearing the truth, the only thing they’re capable of doing is leaving – well then… good riddance.

Dragan Popović: Soon, society will be governed by generations with no personal experience of either Yugoslavia or the 1990s. Their understanding of that period is currently based on the entrenched viewpoints that dominate public discourse. Post-Yugoslav societies have more potential to generate new conflicts than many other parts of Europe, and that reality shapes the need for young people to engage with the past, and to help prevent the “re-arming” of history, so it isn’t weaponised again in conflicts with imagined enemies. For this reason. it is important that at least some of the new generation take an interest in the past, especially the wars of the 1990s, and to understand the consequences of bad decisions and the dangers of nationalism. The way young generations in Serbia relate to Srebrenica will shape their relationship not only with the wartime past, but also with the future. The politics that led to Srebrenica will eventually come full circle and return to Serbia – with all the consequences that such politics always bring, which are never benign.

How does the international community’s inadequate response to the ongoing genocide in Gaza give momentum to the denial of the Srebrenica genocide? And how does this affect European memory culture and the principle of “Never again”? 

Edin Omerčić: I wonder upon which principles the international legal system will be built after the war in Ukraine and the genocide in Gaza. How will the crimes committed be sanctioned? Is what we call international law really applicable to all states? There are organisations, communities, and countless associations working toward peacebuilding, but they are powerless in the face of the state, of autocratic rulers, and of capitalist interests protected by nuclear weapons and fed by brutal repression. A culture of violence is taking shape before our eyes – an aggressive and violent moral model, a monster that will be difficult to resist, precisely because, if left unsanctioned, it risks becoming an ideal, even a model of action: a world in which the strongest win, and only the most resilient survive. To whom does this “Never again” really apply? A handful of European nations; it only works on European soil. And if the slogan “One World, Not Three // One Race, The Human Race” actually means anything – which clearly, it doesn’t – we would have to ask why “Never again” doesn’t seem to apply beyond the borders of Europe. But what I want to emphasise here is that the genocide in Srebrenica was not just an event in the summer of 1995. Genocide is a process, and this one can be traced through its various phases, from at least the mid-1980s onward. Srebrenica was the explosion of the Bosnian genocide, its peak, and its tragic resolution. Alongside all the horrors of the wars in Yugoslavia, the events of the 1990s were a vast laboratory, through which today’s autocratic leaders learned how the international legal system would function in the future, how public opinion could be shaped, and what possibilities media propaganda offered for waging war. That’s why I think we must establish a clear chronology: our inadequate reckoning with the past, and the lessons we failed to learn, are giving wind to the sails of Israel’s genocide against the Palestinians. 

The material we skipped over as a society – the questions we didn’t ask, the answers we didn’t seek – will return to us like an unexploded, stray missile.

Dragan Popović: Srebrenica was a defeat for Europe and the idea of European values that supposedly triumphed with the fall of the Iron Curtain and the continent’s political unification. Instead of learning from that defeat and preventing further failures, Europe allowed the legacy of Srebrenica to become mere ceremonial rhetoric, used only on July 11 – not as a lesson or warning, but as a token to showcase Europe’s rhetorical commitment to protecting diversity and respecting difference. As time passed, Europe increasingly forgot the foundations on which it was built, and became nothing more than a trade union that served economic interests. Such a community, naturally, is incapable of drawing clear red lines, at least when it comes to genocides like the one Israel is currently committing against the Palestinians. Srebrenica should be a clear past example of how genocide was not prevented, and of what must be done differently in future. It should also be a source of new knowledge and understanding of how deniers worldwide instrumentalise great crimes to serve their ideological goals. The methods of denial are similar in both cases, even though Israel’s nationalism is incomparably more powerful than Serbia’s. By failing to learn from Srebrenica, and by remaining silent on the genocide in Gaza, Europe is indirectly contributing to the relativisation of the Srebrenica genocide. 

No matter how sincere the messages of European officials about Srebrenica may be, they sound hollow and insincere at a moment when genocide is occurring in Palestine. Europe is a community founded on values, and only as such can it endure. The future of this supranational union largely depends on how it responds to crimes like those in Srebrenica and Gaza.