LITMIR.BIZ

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from the mortar that we had heard explode. I was disturbed by this. But the others were not. They were used to it. I needed more time there before I too accepted the macabre as commonplace.

      The professor wanted us to give him the aid which we received as quickly as possible. Furthermore, he wished to sit on it until he had enough to be able to issue a little to everyone or at least a little to everyone in a district, “to issue by rings.” The first thoughts of UNHCR were to keep the aid in our possession until we knew the day of the issue, then to hand it over, so that we could see and monitor the issue. We wanted to see it issued to the most vulnerable, the widows and orphans, the elderly, the homeless. We also wanted to issue it rapidly. The people were starving now and they knew that aid was arriving. Given a little aid their morale would improve. Given no aid they may storm the warehouses.

      Not only was there a difference of opinion on method of distribution, there was the age-old shadow boxing between donor and recipient. I hate this mutual mistrust. It happens with every operation. Basically, we believe that the only way to guarantee that all the aid will be distributed to the needy is if you yourself put the spoon into the mouth of the beneficiary. Clearly this we cannot do. We have to trust and use the local agents. Sarajevo was a Central European capital. The professor was a man of honour but I’ve been ripped off by foreign royalty with degrees from Oxbridge, so I am cautious. My first thoughts were that he had been told to get the aid quickly because his masters wanted some of it to go to the army. I could understand this. Every resident in Sarajevo was happy to see the defenders of the city fed first. They were their own sons and husbands.

      If there was enough aid for everyone, I wanted every person in Sarajevo to get his or her share—be they doctors, dentists, pensioners, nurses, or soldiers. If there was not enough to go around, then I wanted the distribution to be to the most vulnerable, to the children, to the aged, to the homeless.

      The professor I learned to like and respect. The job that he had been given was the worst in Sarajevo. He was criticised by everyone. The citizens never appreciated how little we were able to bring in and accused the professor of either stealing it or misappropriating it. The authorities accused him of being too honourable. We accused him of being too slow and weak. His task was Herculean and Solomonic. I was later to visit his home. He had far less than anyone else. His family suffered because of his position. Initially, I gave him a hard time. I did not accord to him the respect he deserved.

      At the end of the meeting, whilst we were discussing the terrible plight of Sarajevo, both the professor and Mr. Pamuk requested that we divert aid to Gorazde. The citizens of Sarajevo who have little, wish to share that little with the citizens of Gorazde who have nothing. I reassured them that we were negotiating the entry of a convoy. But I knew that Fabrizio was having little success.

      Having visited the Government side, it was time for me to see the Serb side, to discuss their needs and their wishes.

      Fabrizio Hochschild had set the policy. He knew that aid to one side was morally wrong and practically impossible. There were many thousands of refugees in the Serb held territory around Sarajevo, mainly Serbs, but also some Croats and a few Muslims. All aid coming into Sarajevo passed through Serb territory. There was no way the Serbs would allow aid in to feed the population of Sarajevo without a share going to them. He was put under pressure to choose the suburb of Ilidza as the Serb side delivery and distribution centre but he chose the quieter area of Rajlovac. Hence a percentage of the aid arriving into Sarajevo was to be sent to the Rajlovac depot for distribution by the Serbs to the displaced and vulnerable in those parts of what had been the District of Sarajevo which was now in Serb hands. Both sides referred to these territories by the same names: “free Sarajevo” and “occupied Sarajevo,” but to each, of course, it had the opposite meaning.

      So I took my first trip across the front line to Rajlovac, which is, as the crow flies, close to Sarajevo airport. The warehouse is next to a huge railway yard and a small aircraft landing strip. I was met at the warehouse by the man responsible for distribution and his assistant. Milivoje Unkovic is an artist by training, a painter by choice. He was wearing an army uniform, but as an artist. It did not restrict him. It was as if a Bohemian was wearing army surplus. He is a neat, gentle, and handsome man. His assistant, Ljerka Jeftic, is the power. She is dark haired with a commanding voice. Polite but firm. Also present was Ljubisa Vladusic, the Commissioner for Refugees for the Serb side, from Pale. He is young, very tall, heavy, with an open friendly face.

      Ljerka ensured we wasted no time; we were off to a strong start. The Commissioner began—The Srpska Republika Government has set up this depot in coordination with the Serbian charity Dobrotvor, the Red Cross and UNHCR to supply aid to the municipalities and to stop its manipulation. He then added an important line—This is a civilian task. It has nothing to do with the Army.

      He beamed as I nodded approval. Ljerka then took the floor—We would like a delivery of aid every two days, we are feeding 200,000 dependents. Forty-five per cent are refugees, women and children. Very professional. Then from Mr. Vladusic came a very sharp question, asked with no emphasis—What is the population of Sarajevo at the moment Mr. Larry? Nice one. I thought.

      – I think they are talking about 340,000.

      – Then we should get two thirds of what they get.

      – I am not into numbers yet. I see the parallels and I see the tangents. Sarajevo is of course surrounded, besieged. You have access to rolling plains, open fields, woods, farms. So not all of your people are entirely dependent on what the agencies bring in. Sarajevo is.

      – Why do you say Sarajevo is besieged?—Ljerka again.

      – Because the roads to it are blocked by you.

      – We have opened the airport and a road for you. Also, we have said that if the people want to leave, they can do so.

      Both statements are true, but it is a Bosnian truth. The road was not open to commercial traffic and the airport would never bring in enough to satisfy the total needs of a city. As to her “also,” right again. The Serb side were very keen on opening the road out of Sarajevo and permitting the whole population to leave. The Sarajevo Government and UNHCR called this “ethnic cleansing.” Sarajevans have the right to live in their own homes in Sarajevo. I went onto the offensive—The removal of the rightful inhabitants of the city is not an option, nor is ‘Stay and starve and be shelled’ an option.

      Ljerka ignored this comment. I then carefully and naively explained how I, a recent arrival, saw the situation. Emphasising how the Serbs were receiving a bad press for actions they could put right immediately. They were very polite and patient. Mr. Vladusic and I were to become good friends. I found him always to be fair and honest and professionally cunning.

      I returned to the airport wiser.

      A few days later we did bring in the first road convoy. It came from Split in Croatia. A team of British drivers pioneered the route. They were funded by the Overseas Development Administration (ODA). They were recruited and led by John Foster who is the Emergency Planning Officer for the Isle of Man Government who was on loan to ODA. Amongst his drivers was the colourful Peter Milne who arrived wearing his kilt. A character who later helped me to get into Tesanj and Maglaj.

      The first deliveries into the city were for those people living in the Bosnian Government dominated area of the city. We were aware of the fact that the district of Grbavica was in Serb held territory and that it had a large population of starving people. Furthermore, it could not be reached by the Serbs themselves from Rajlovac.

      I first spoke to Professor Kljic. He agreed that Grbavica needed aid. Painfully he told me that it was the area of the city where he had lived before the war. He had never had any trouble with his neighbours. He certainly felt it right and just that they should receive their share of the aid. This was a good start. He talked to his masters. They agreed. We therefore had approval to take aid out of the city into the Serb territory. We then approached the Serb side via the liaison officers. We agreed a date for a convoy. The Canadians agreed to escort it. It was to be UNHCR vehicles with UNHCR local drivers. At the last minute, the Serbs vetoed this; they would not permit Muslims into their territory.

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