The Eternal Question About Religion (neues-deutschland.de)

In Sarajevo, hope lasts a little longer. In October 1991, the national team of Yugoslavia played in the Bosnian capital. At that time, Slovenia and Croatia had already declared their independence from the multi-ethnic state. In the stands in Sarajevo, however, 20,000 spectators clap, pigeons of peace rise before the game. For decades, Bosnia and Herzegovina had been the only Yugoslav republic in which no population group had an absolute majority. And this can be seen in Sarajevo in 1991: Of the 530,000 inhabitants, 49 percent are Muslims, 30 percent Serbs, seven percent Croatians. No community in the area is ethnically homogeneous, mixed marriages are a matter of course.

After a referendum in March 1992, the Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina also declared independence. The Bosnian Serbs do not want to accept this. In this charged atmosphere the traditional club Željezničar in Sarajevo welcomes the Rad Belgrade association. On the same day, Serbian soldiers occupy a police academy near the stadium. They randomly shoot civilians, including the stadium. Players and fans can get to safety. The stadium has been on the front line for months. Snipers are entrenched behind the clubhouse, bleachers go up in flames, the lawn is like a crater. The siege of Sarajevo will last for almost four years and cost the lives of more than 11,000 people.

Football as a political tool. For peace, but also for war. For commemoration, but also for the glorification of crimes. This is the case in many countries, especially in the Balkans. Especially now that the world remembers the worst war crime in Europe since World War II: 25 years ago, Bosnian Serb soldiers and militias murdered more than 8,000 Muslim Bosnians in Srebrenica, also known as Bosniaks. The form of remembering has been debated for years. Provocations, hostility, exclusion. Like a burning glass on it: football.

In Sarajevo, traces of war around the Željezničar stadium are still omnipresent. Houses with bullet holes, shattered window panes, crumbling plaster. At the retreaded stadium, a plaque commemorates the victims. For years, fans have been singing about their battered neighborhood and sometimes presenting fighting soldiers in choreographies. They organize memorial tournaments for Dževad Begić Džilda. The fan leader wanted to save a wounded woman in 1992, and he was killed by a sniper himself. “For all pro-Bosnian fan groups, commemoration has an identity-creating role,” says Leipzig political and cultural scientist Alexander Mennicke. A message stands out on many graffiti in Sarajevo: “No forgiveness, no forgetting!”

During the Bosnian War, around 100,000 people were killed, more than two million fled or were displaced. After the Dayton Agreement in 1995, the former Yugoslav Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina finally became independent and separated into two areas: The Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, ruled by Muslims and Croats, received 51 percent of the territory, a symbolic majority. The Serbian-dominated Republika Srpska was awarded 49 percent. In the meantime, Bosnians with Muslim, Serbian and Croatian roots no longer live with each other, but separated from one another in communities – also in football, says reporter Semir Mujkić from the investigative network »Birn«: »Nationalist politicians use clubs as a platform. They often use fans for their demos or hire them as security guards. War criminals are glorified again and again in the stadiums. «

For example Ratko Mladić. The Bosnian-Serb general was responsible for ethnic cleansing – and the Srebrenica massacre. Mladić was sentenced to life in prison for genocide in 2017. Fans of FK Borac in Banja Luka, the seat of government of the Republika Srpska, celebrated Mladić and taunted the Bosnian victims of the mass executions. Her saying: “Knife, barbed wire, srebrenica”.

Dženan Đipa still wants to emphasize what connects in society, not what separates. In the Football Association of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Đipa is responsible for social projects. He proposed a café in Sarajevo on the edge of the Old Ottoman bazaar district as the location for the interview; nearby are mosques, a Catholic cathedral, an Orthodox church and a synagogue. “We are a small country,” says Đipa. »If we want to be successful in business, culture or football, we have to work together.«

As the geographic center of the western Balkans, Bosnia and Herzegovina has been claimed by generations of Bosniaks, Croats and Serbs. In order to meet all demands, the state was not only divided into two areas, but also into 14 regions, with 14 parliaments. The highest state presidency has a Muslim, a Croatian and a Serbian representative, and the chair changes every eight months. “Coming to a compromise is our greatest challenge,” says Dženan Đipa. “Even in football.”

After the war, the reluctance among themselves was still too strong. Bosniaks, Serbs and Croats initially held their own regional championships, but it was only at the beginning of the millennium that they came together in a professional league after long negotiations. According to the rules of FIFA, the football association of Bosnia and Herzegovina may only have one president, but at least on the board, the three major population groups are represented with five seats each.

The structure of the national team was also overshadowed by disputes. Sergej Barbarez, for example, successfully played for twelve years in the German Bundesliga from 1996, including for Hansa Rostock, Borussia Dortmund and Hamburger SV, but initially refused international matches from his home country of Bosnia and Herzegovina. The reason: his Croatian mother was threatened by nationalists. Again and again, players boycotted the Bosnian national team. According to their assessment, the association placed more emphasis on the nationalities of the players than on their talents.

The national team still plays their home games in Zenica or Sarajevo, in cities with a Muslim majority. An appearance in the Serbian Banja Luka is unrealistic. “We should take more care of the youth, who have nothing to do with the war,” says Dženan Đipa and shows photos of successful sporting events on his cell phone. “Football can promote cohesion, religion doesn’t matter on the lawn.” It is not so much the children that he has to talk gently to, but rather their parents.

Is reconciliation possible in this complicated situation? Maybe Robert Prosinečki has an answer. The son of a Croatian father and a Serbian mother was the only player to score World Cup goals for two countries, 1990 for Yugoslavia and 1998 for Croatia. Prosinečki coached the national team of Bosnia and Herzegovina until the end of 2019, saying: »The war was bad, we’ll never forget that, but it has to go on. Young people want a job, many go to Western Europe when they are 14 or 15 years old. «

Prosinečki, too, had to deal with politics as a national coach. One of his selection players, Ognjen Vranješ, born in Banja Luka, had the border line of Republika Srpska tattooed on his arm, as well as a tattoo by Momčilo Đujić. The Serbian priest had collaborated with the Nazis in World War II. For Muslim Bosnians, these are intolerable provocations. Prosinečki kicked him out of the team in 2019.

Today the national coach wants to talk about topics that spread hope. In 2014, the national team of Bosnia and Herzegovina played their only World Cup in Brazil. In the first game she demanded a lot from Argentina, but was defeated 1: 2. Serbs and Croatians have also paid respect for this. “There is a lot more that can be done,” says Prosinečki. “Football is the best marketing in the world.” Perhaps it will be back someday, the solidarity among neighbors. Maybe even with a friendly game or two.