Sarajevo, Mon Amour

Yesterday, the star-studded 25th edition of the Sarajevo Film Festival ended and with it a week of joyful partying for the entire city. And what a party it was! While director Alejandro González Iñárritu, actors Isabelle Huppert or Gael Garcia Bernal, to name just a few, strutted down the red carpet in front of the National Theatre, local youth volunteered as ushers, and the rest of the town joined international movie-goers not only in the movietheatres, but at parties and clubbings that boosted Balkan popmusic through the city center until the wee hours.

The Heart of Sarajevo at the Bazar in the Ottoman quarter of town

The “Heart of Sarajevo”, the festival’s logo, a delicate heart shape designed by French fashion designer Agnès B., could be found at every street corner: dangling from the street lights in the elegant Habsburgian part of the town, from the shops at the bazar in the Ottoman part of the town, and even illuminated at the bus stops in the concrete jungle of the realsocialist Tito era.

street café packed during the Festival

Little reminded of the beginnings of the Sarajevo Film Festival 25 years ago: Admission to any one of the 37 films shown from October 25 to November 5 1995 was one cigarette. Portable generators provided power to the projectors. Directors Alfonso Cuaron and Leos Carax made their way over the surrounding mountains in armored cars. Film canisters were lugged through a tunnel dug beneath the airport. Sarajevo was under siege.

Sarajevo, hitherto a symbol of religious tolerance and joie de vivre, was besieged by the Serbian army for four years, from 1992 till December 1995. Snipers zooming in on city dwellers while asleep in their beds, while preparing dinner in their kitchens; shrapnel killing children on the playground or on their way to school; land mines blowing up men, women searching for fire wood, in need of food or medication. The Balkan War, an ethnic conflict which led to the Bosnian genocide and the break-up of the Yugoslav Republic, resulted in the death of at least 130,000 people.

Crossing from the Ottoman quarter to the Habsburgian part of town.

The Sarajevo festival was launched in 1995 as an act of defiance, Mirsad Purivatra, the festival’s founder remembered in an interview with “The Wrap” on the occasion of the festival’s 20th anniversary in 2014:

Sarajevsko Beer at the Sarajevsko Brewery. During the siege, the brewery was the only source of fresh water in the city. The people queued up with plastic canisters, risking their lives. The Serbian army had snipers set up on the mountain tops surrounding the city.

“For the first six months of the war, to survive physically was the main goal,” he said. “After six months, we started to think about how to survive mentally, and film was the way. During the war, there was no communication. You never knew who left the city, who stayed, who was killed. Coming together to see movies became the main cultural event in Sarajevo.”

Diary entry from during the Siege, at a War Exhibition in Sarajevo

The first screenings where held at a basement, then relocated to a Jewish Synagogue. 15,000 people – an utterly unexpected and overwhelming number – showed up to watch the films in war torn Sarajevo. The second festival, in 1996, ended on the same day the Dayton Agreement ended the Balkan War, and Purivatra started thinking about turning the screenings into a real festival. The rest is history.

Mountainous Sarajevo

The Sarajevo festival grew into the most prominent film festival of South-East Europe, attracting more than 100,000 people annually on all programs and screening hundreds of films from 60 countries. This year, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has awarded the Sarajevo Film Festival the status of the Academy Award qualifying film festival in the Short Film category.

The Sarajevo Rose at the markethall in central Sarajevo. The Serbian Army bombarded the so called Markale twice, in 1994 and 1995, killing 111 and wounding 219 people queuing up to buy groceries.

The scars of war are still visible in the city. The “Sarajevo roses” indicate where bombs killed more than three people in the streets; facades still pock marked with bullet holes; buildings damaged and never rebuilt; and of course the memories of the people of Sarajevo.

at Ferhadija Mosque in Sarajevo

But the scars are fading. And with the festival the spirits are rising and at least for ten days a year Sarajevo becomes once again the symbol of tolerance and joie de vivre it has always been.

One of the winning films of the 2019 Festival. The festival focuses on the South-Eastern Europe, this film of Georgia tells the story of a gay love in a patriarchal society

Sarajevo Roses

25 years ago, on April 5th 1992, 24 year old Suada Dilberovic, a Muslim student at the faculty of Medicine, participated in a peace rally in Sarajevo. Up to 100 000 people of all Yugoslavian ethnic groups had gathered for this march, held in response to repeated attacks of Serbian paramilitary groups on multi-ethnical Bosnia and Hercegovina. As the marchers crossed the bridge over the Miljacka river, they were ambushed by Serbian snipers. Suada and her 34-year old catholic compatriot Olga Sucic were shot and killed: the first casualties of the siege of Sarajevo.

By the end of April 1992, the Serbian Army had encircled Sarajevo, positioning their tanks on the mountain tops surrounding the city, where a mere eight years before the Olympic winter games had been held. The Olympic bob sleighs and the ski jumping hills turned into killing fields from where mortars and artillery were fired. Machine guns aimed at bedroom windows and at the living rooms of the city below.

13,954 people died. The siege only ended on February 29 1996, a mere forty years after the horrors of WWII and the holocaust, and the world said: “Never again!” again.

25 years after the siege of Sarajevo, the scars are still visible. Some shrapnel grates were not repaired, but colored red, as a reminder, a memorial, a warning of what nationalism, war and hate do to people. They are called “Sarajevo roses”.

Visiting Sarajevo is not a fun holiday in the sun. It is an encounter with history and culture, impressive, thought-arousing, and captivating. Visiting Sarajevo means learning of history and human nature. And of the human capacity to overcome and reconcile: In 2007, Suada was awarded a posthumous Doctor of Medicine by the University of Sarajevo.

Sarajevo Blues: So beautiful it hurts

 

Sarajevo is a scarred city.  There are craters from mortar attacks in the streets, and bullet holes in the facades of residential buildings. There are cemeteries at every corner it seems, most are Muslim, some Jewish, some are Orthodox, some Catholic, for faith could not stop bullets, neither during the Siege of Sarajevo 1992-1994, nor during WWII, nor WWI, which began in Sarajevo in 1914.

Sevdah is the traditional music of Bosnia, stemming from the time of the Ottoman Empire. The name Sevdah comes from the Arab word for melancholy, Sawda: Sad poems telling stories of love forbidden or lost, of grief and loss, of heart ache and pain, traditionally sung by women in the Arabic modal systems of Hijaz, as are the muezzin’s calls for prayers.

“Sevdah will be sung after any war,” Zaim Imamovic said, before he died in 1994 at the age of 74. He was to Sevdah music what Carlos Gardel is to Tango. Everybody in Sarajevo knows the words of the Sevdalinkas, the songs, and they cry as they sing, as they dance.