MOSTAR LETTER:Bosnia is going through its worst crisis since the 1992-95 war, which has left it without a government for almost 10 months
SWALLOWS SWOOP beneath the graceful arch of the Old Bridge and young men plunge from its white stone parapet into the turquoise Neretva river far below.
Stunned by the feat and the pounding heat of the Bosnian sun, tourists hand a little danger money to the glistening divers and complete their slow crossing to the other half of Mostar.
This town is divided between Croats, who dominate the western bank, and Bosnian Muslims, concentrated on the eastern side, a legacy of the 1992-95 war that saw the communities first join forces, then turn on each other, and finally declare a nervous truce.
One of the most famous victims of a war that claimed 100,000 lives was the Old Bridge – Stari Most in the local language – from which Mostar got its name.
The bridge was built on the orders of Bosnia’s 16th-century Ottoman ruler, Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, to replace a rickety wood and iron bridge that hung suspended over the Neretva and terrified all those who had to cross it. That new bridge took almost a decade to construct.
Local legend clams that the builder, Mimar Hayruddin, made preparations for his funeral as the scaffolding was removed and the extraordinary span unveiled, so sure was he that it would simply collapse into the swirling river.
Instead of tumbling into the Neretva, the 100-ft bridge arced majestically between the two halves of Mostar for 427 years, becoming a symbol of the town and of centuries of mostly peaceful co-existence between the Croats, Muslims, Serbs and other communities that lived there.
The bridge survived wars, earthquakes and floods and outlived the Ottoman and Austro- Hungarian empires and communist Yugoslavia.
However it could not withstand attack by ethnic-Croat forces who wanted Croat-dominated parts of Bosnia to join the adjacent state of Croatia and who were willing to ethnically cleanse the region of Muslims and Serbs to achieve their aim.
From high in the parched hills that almost encircle Mostar, Bosnian Croat commanders fired tank and artillery shells at the Old Bridge until it collapsed into the Neretva on November 9th, 1993.
Its destruction cut the town in two, dividing Croats from Muslims and dealing what felt like a fatal blow to the centuries-old reality of a multi-ethnic Bosnia. It also seemed to crush hopes of ever reconciling a republic torn apart by the fantasies of Serb and Croatian nationalists.
Not everyone in Bosnia, or abroad, though, was willing to abandon the legendary bridge and what it symbolised. Seven years ago tomorrow, thanks to a $13 million effort that used as many original methods and local materials as possible, the rebuilt Stari Most was unveiled.
The spectacular reopening ceremony culminated with nine divers holding flaming torches plunging through the night air into the Neretva.
“This is a bridge which has a soul of its own,” Sulejman Kupusovic, the director of the reopening events, said that evening. “Even when it was destroyed and did not exist, it was present among the residents even more than ever.
“I am sure that this bridge will do more for the unification of Mostar and Bosnia – more than declarations or politicians together – because it is, simply put, our history.”
Today, Muslims and Croats have dealings with each other and do not fear crossing into the “wrong” part of town, but Mostar is still effectively divided.
While the call to prayer drifts from medieval minarets in the Muslim area, bells toll in the huge Catholic cathedral that dominates the Croat side and a giant white cross stands illuminated on the hill above town. Buildings ravaged by wartime gunfire are still common wherever you walk.
“Officially this is one town, but really it is two. We do business with each other and are polite, but we don’t live together,” said Mirsad Zekic (50) who runs a shop in the Muslim district.
“The Serbs and Croats can go to Serbia and Croatia if they want, but we Muslims don’t have anywhere else to go. If we didn’t have international peacekeepers and politicians here, the Croats and Serbs would try to finish the job they started in the 1990s.”
Croats complain that their interests are not adequately protected in Bosnia, where they are outnumbered by Muslims and Serbs. The most popular – and most radical – Croat parties are now calling for the creation of a new majority-Croat region within Bosnia where they can run their own affairs.
This ill-feeling has contributed to Bosnia’s worst crisis since the war, which has left it without a government for almost 10 months.
“I’m very scared for Croats in Bosnia,” said Miso Relota, a spokesman for the country’s leading ethnic-Croatian party, known by its acronym HDZBiH.
“We should be guaranteed the same powers and rights as Muslims and Serbs. If not, Croats will become something like a folklore group in Bosnia, and most of us will go to Croatia – which will be in the European Union in a couple of years – or just move to western Europe.”
