Nowhere to Go

As Priboj borders with the Bosnian Serb Republic (RS), Popovic admitted the possibility that some Moslems, especially those living in the Kukurovici-Strmac-Sjeverin border belt, had fled because of the vicinity of war clashes. However, it seems that the reasons for fear in that area were much more tangible and immediate. Two-thirds of the municipality's territory, including villages inhabited and later abandoned by Moslems, is reachable from Priboj itself only via the RS. In the Bosnian Serb held village of Mioce, 17 Moslems from Sjeverin on their way to Priboj were abducted on 22 October 1992. The identity of the kidnappers as well as the fate of those kidnapped remains a mystery.

After the incident, in order to "protect" them, the Bosnian Serbs banned Moslems from using the only road to Priboj. The Moslems had remained in some kind of a reservation camp, facing the realistic danger of losing their scalps if they abandoned it. There were a few meetings; Sjeverin was visited by human rights minister at the time when Milan Panic was the president, Momcilo Grubac; a committee was formed with the aim of preventing a coming exodus; but the Moslems were given nothing that would stop them from leaving apart from verbal guarantees.

Several buses operate on a daily basis from Priboj to Rudo, which is two kilometers from Sjeverin. The border is located on the outskirts of Priboj, in a place called Uvac. A policeman on the Serbian side enters the bus and - worse then the driver would - checks the ethnic composition of the busload with an experienced eye for such matters, before letting it into the RS. Ten kilometers further, we're at the Prelac border crossing and going into Serbia again. From Sjeverin to Rudo, and finally back to the RS. We toured Sjeverin with Ljubinko Djukic, a local and deputy of the Serbian Renewal Movement (SPO) in Priboj. Five houses are still inhabited by Moslems, four of which are owned by elderly couples. One of them is the Agovic family. The Agovic family lives in the hills. The husband Salih, his wife Hatidza, son Idriz and daughter-in-law Stana are the family members. The family is one of the most ancient in the village. The other son, Erid, left with his family for Turkey in October 1992, while Jusuf teaches is Priboj. Another son is in Sarajevo, while the daughter has found a new home in Berlin. After the Strpci case, when the last group of Moslems left Sjeverin, the entire family apart from Salih went to Priboj. He didn't want to abandon his home. Idriz was the first to come back, followed by his mother and wife. He met the last fleeing Moslems on his way back.

The neighborhood helps them to get by. Stana, a Serb from Sekovic, never had any restrictions to moving around. During the most difficult times, she was the one who provided medication and food. Have their neighbours who fled told them to look after their houses? "We could barely look after our own, let alone the others," they say. "Problems? All of the remaining Moslems have had their telephones disconnected. They are unable to sell anything. While the state wants tax money, we have electricity bills to pay. We have not been visited by the doctor once, and for all the state cares, we could be dead," Stana says.

Ljubinko takes us to the centre of the village. We are on our way to a Moslem house now occupied by a Serb. "That's the only one", Ljubinko says. A two-store house, in the centre. We met Slavko Vilaret of Grbavica, a Sarajevo suburb, on the stairs. He left Sarajevo with his wife and child in July 1992, somewhere behind Tuzla, in a way he can't explain himself. He left a flat and two cars behind. He has been here since January 1993. When he showed up, the previous owner of the house, one Sefik Strojil, offered him to take the keys.

They had already known each other. They went to a Priboj lawyer to verify this unusual transaction. Vilaret explains that he will be in the house until Sefik returns, when better times come.

We could not find Sefik in Priboj. According to Merhamet's evidence, there are several hundred Moslems from nearby villages left in Priboj. Those employed by FAP are the only ones with "privileges" - they were able to keep their jobs if they reached Priboj and managed to stay there. Rifat Sarak and his mother have rented an apartment. His brother and family are in another house. He left Sjeverin in November 1992. The family left behind a house in Sjeverin and another one in nearby Jelovik. They say that no one either forced them to leave or tried to stop them. What made them leave? "Reserve officers, Serbian nationalist symbols and songs, uncontrolled shooting, provocations - we simply had no guarantees that we would stay alive," Rifat says. Reserve troops and volunteers made them leave. "No one from the Bosnian side entered the village or shot," someone interrupts him.

Local reserve police forces harassed them more than anyone. On their arduous journey across the hills , police patrols swore at them and even got physical at times. During the first year of the war, they used to go back occasionally to harvest the wheat with the unselfish help of their neighbours. But that has stopped too. Rifat visited the house recently. For two years, it had remained intact. Now, after it has been looted and much of it destroyed, it barely resembles a home.

"There were cases of Serbs guarding abandoned Moslem homes. However, everything has been looted. I don't think the neighbours had done it - they certainly wouldn't even if some of them were unwilling or unable to help," Rifat assures us.

Does he want to go back ?

"There is nowhere to go, there is nothing left in the house." The others - his family and visiting relatives don't agree with him. If a safe passage to the village is opened, at least as far as Plejvlja, they will all go back. They ask the Serbian authorities - whose citizens are they, and how come Bosnian Serbs are free to come to Serbia while they cannot go to their villages, which are also in Serbia? Serbia has declined to answer so far.

Kidnappings in Serbia

Three years ago on February 27, 1993, 19 people were kidnapped (19 Moslems and one Croat) from train 671 on the Belgrade-Bar line at the Strpci station.

They were: Dzafer Topuzovic (1938), rasim Coric ('41), Adem Alomerovic ('36), Fikret Memovic ('53), Fevzija Zekovic ('39), Nijazim Kajevic ('63), Muhedin Hamic ('66), Safet Prelevic ('68) (all of them from Prijepolje), Fehima Bakija ('50), Rifat Husovic ('58), Ilijaz Licina ('56), Esad Kapetanovic ('74), Seco Seftic ('45) (all from Bijelo Polje), Ismet Babacic ('63) (Podgorica), Samir rastoder ('44) (Belgrade, Zvezdan Zulcic ('69) (Novi Sad) and Halil Zupcevic ('44) a refugee from Trebinje.

Three years wasn't time enough for the state to disclose the truth about their disappearance. We know nothing about them. The bravest assumption was that they are still alive. There were stories that the 19 were traded for Serb prisoners held by the Moslems, that they were taken to Visegrad, that they were forced labor at the Uzicka Pozega explosives factory.

The authorities in Serbia, Montenegro and the federal authorities said Strpci is the only part of the Belgrade-Bar railroad that runs through the Bosnian Serb republic. Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic promised their families that he would do everything to find them and at the time he seemed to be intending to meet that promise. Some time later, in Prijepolje, he said he had firm promises that the abductees would be found and returned home.

State commission formed to investigate the kidnappings got nowhere and hope that the 19 are still alive faded and with it the hope that any light would be shed on the whole thing.

The crime was first attributed to a certain Milan Lukic who was in Uzice jail because of another crime he committed in Visegrad. The Serbian authorities handed him over to the Bosnian Serbs who wanted him for another crime. That was when it became clear everything was becoming a farce.

At the third anniversary of the abduction, families and friends and another 1,000 Podgorica residents marched silently through the Montenegrin capital to remind the authorities of the tragedy.

Security officers at the presidential building didn't allow them to lay flowers out front saying "it isn't customary to lay flowers here". One of the marchers answered: "Flowers can be laid where you firmly believe the truth is buried." He probably meant the doors to the homes of Bulatovic and Milosevic.