Bosniak retells stories of faith and resilience from Srebrenica genocide

Living far away from the killing fields of Bosnia during the height of the 1992-95 war, Semiha Bahadir was battling a personal loss – she lost her three-year-old baby in an accident in 1993 – besides sharing the pain of her fellow Bosniaks.

Married and settled in Istanbul, Bahadir heard the news from her homeland with deep anguish.

As a behavioural specialist, she was trained to deal with pain and trauma by understanding and analysing human behaviour, particularly in the context of psychology and social interactions.

But nothing in life could have prepared her for the sheer brutality of the invaders when gut-wrenching details emerged about what is now known as the Srebrenica genocide – when Serb forces massacred more than 8,000 Muslim men and boys after overrunning the ill-fated town on July 11, 1995, in the final stages of the war.

The UN has officially declared the massacre as genocide.

One year after the then Yugoslavia disintegrated in 1991, Bosnian Serbs opposed to the independence referendum by Bosnia and Herzegovina launched a campaign of ethnic cleansing, starting the most prolonged city siege of the time. According to the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia, over 100,000 people died in the war, at least 70 percent being Bosniaks.

The war also displaced more than two million civilians, and hundreds of thousands of Bosnian Muslims poured into Türkiye, and Istanbul set up refugee camps. Bahadir found her calling to use her professional expertise as a tool to help her fellow Bosniaks and war survivors cope with their trauma.

Bahadir joined hundreds of Turkish women in caring for the refugees, especially women and children.

The Turkish Red Crescent and other humanitarian organisations also played a pivotal role in helping 350,000-odd refugees who found safe haven in several provinces of Türkiye.

On the eve of the 28th anniversary of the genocide – recorded as the worst atrocity since World War II – Bahadir unveils harrowing details of the atrocities committed against Bosnian Muslims, drawing from her unique experience and sharing insights gained from her interactions with survivors.

“I am opening up about Srebrenica for the very first time…It has been a locked door within me for over 20 years,” says Bahadir, now 57.

She recalls how she embarked on a journey of healing and transformation.

She recalls how she embarked on a journey of healing and transformation. "The intensity of pain from both within and outside left me questioning how to cope," shared Bahadir, her voice filled with profound reflection. "I soon realised that moving on and returning to ‘normal’ life was impossible in the face of such immense pain. It led me to reframe the question: how can I learn to live with this pain?"

Drawing upon her expertise, she sought solace in understanding the depths of human resilience.

Bahadir’s mission became clear: to help her people find strength amidst adversity, reclaim their identities, and rebuild their lives.

These are stories of Bosniaks who saw the worst of humanity and survived to tell their stories.

‘Tell them, so we are understood’

In a pivotal moment during the war, Alija Izetbegovic – the first president of Bosnia and Herzegovina and revered as the ‘wise king’ – contacted his wife Halida, who was at that time living in Istanbul after being evacuated from the war-ravaged country.

During that time, Bahadir stood by Halida Izetbegovic as her consultant and interpreter for over 6 years, forging a close and enduring bond between them.

Bahadir recalls Halida Izetbegovic telling her about Alija Izetbegovic’s impassioned words over the telephone when he called her: “Tell them, so we are understood.”

He directed his wife to draw the world's attention to the unfolding humanitarian crisis in his country and the entire Balkan region.

Halida Izetbegovic and Semiha Bahadir organised a conference at Marmara University, aiming to introduce the Bosnian people and provide insight into the historical and cultural processes of the Balkans.

The conference brought together people from diverse ethnic backgrounds, surprising both Izetbegovic and Bahadir.

“Persecution has no language, religion, race, or time,” Bahadir tells TRT World, referring to the support for the Bosniaks during the conference.

A body distanced from its soul

Bahadir recalls meeting a six-year-old Bosnian girl who witnessed the gangrape of her mother, grandmother, and other female family members by Serbian soldiers.

The girl – whose identity was undisclosed to protect her privacy – was hidden by her family in a barrel when the Serb troops barged into their house. Her father, grandfather, and other male members of the family were taken out of the house and never seen again.

Rescued and brought to a Turkish refugee camp, she found solace under the care of her therapist, Bahadir.

“It was a first in my professional career,” Bahadir says. “There was a body and a ripped soul, but we saw no harmony binding the two.”

Due to Bahadir’s unwavering determination, the girl's healing journey progressed.

“I saw how many special and beautiful things could emerge from such a breaking point,” she says. “This little girl eventually recovered, she started speaking seven languages fluently at the age of 16, and now, she thrives as an influential voice on international platforms.”

‘Almighty took 17, but gave 70,000’

A “nena”, grandmother in Bosnian, is considered the core of the family and is treated with respect and honour in Bosniak society.

During the Bosnian war, one nena captured Bahadir’s heart amid the turmoil. Despite losing 17 family members, the 85-year-old matriarch inspired all with her unwavering strength. With only one surviving grandchild seeking refuge in Türkiye, she maintained hope and gratitude towards God.

During a visit to one of the refugee camps, Bahadir had a memorable interaction with Nena.

“Why are these women so drained?” the octogenarian asked, referring to the other Bosnian women in the camp.

“We are not in pain. Those who have gone became martyrs. Allah is hosting them. Those who remain alive are in Türkiye’s motherly embrace and safe,” Bahadir quotes Nena as saying.

Despite the tragedies, Nena’s faith in god was unwavering, Bahadir recalls. “The Almighty took 17, but He gave 70,000 more,” she remembers the matriarch as saying.

She told Bahadir that pain was a catalyst for societal and global transformation and contained a future filled with “light, tranquillity, and maturity”.

This approach echoes the profound sentiment captured in Alija Izetbegovic's words: “They tried to bury us; they didn't know we were seeds.”

“If we forget, we will continue to be massacred every 50 years”

Bahadir refuses to call the genocide a 'war', the official term used for the violence inflicted on Bosnian Muslims. “Calling what happened in Bosnia a war is an injustice to Bosniaks; there should be a balance of power in war.”

She drives home her point by pointing out how Serbs used rape as a weapon of war and how the women were not allowed to abort fetuses in a systematic attempt by the Serbs to create an interruption between generations of Bosnian Muslims.

Through the atrocities, the five “survival dimensions”—security of life, mind, property, progeny, and freedom of faith— were ruthlessly targeted during the Bosnian war, shattering every aspect of human existence.

Bahadir highlights the need for accurate information and collective consciousness. Forgetting past atrocities lets the culprits off the hook and encourages future violence.

Bahadir echoes her late grandfather's warning, “If we forget, we will continue to be massacred every 50 years.”

She says his words echo the sentiment of the late Alija Izetbegovic, who once cautioned, “Whatever you do, don't forget the genocide. Because a forgotten genocide is repeated.”