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Regionalni centar građanske akcije LINGVA |
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Svedočanstva i dokumenti o zločinima počinjenim na prostoru bivše Jugoslavije |
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*** Dada Vujasinović "SVEDOČENJA" (Pisma 1990-1994.) Odlomak iz knjige " Svedočenja " ..U vododerini podno Psunja stoji zaglavljena traktorska kolona. Jedan momak po jezivoj hladnoci, bos do kolena, strpljivo izvlaci jedan po jedan traktor. Ali kako koji novi naide potok biva dublji. Promrzla kolona, ipak, promice. Prvo idu oni iz Batinjana, Bastaja i Dobre Kuce. Cak i nadu snage da se obraduju kad uspeju da se išcupaju iz vode. Za nama, za prelaz na suprotnu stranu ceka jedan vojni kamion. Vojnik urla da se sklonimo i ne smetamo jer se njemu strašno žuri. Onda se stušti u potok, još vecom brzinom iz njega izleti po zaglibljenim traktorima i prikolicama baci nešto ledene vode i blata sa tockova pa ga nestane uzbrdo. Pitam se je li bio neki problem da se na potok postavi sasvim mali pontonski most da ovaj narod, ako vec mora da beži, ove noci može bar koji kilometar dalje. *** Odlomak iz poglavlja " Pisma " 25. XI 1992. ..Znaš Sanja, ne želim da budem zao prorok niti ptica zloslutnica, ali ne mogu da se otmem utisku da ce se Beogradu skupo osvetiti ta njegova apatija i nezainteresovanost. Ja mogu da razumem donekle da su ljudi iscrpljeni golom borbom za opstanak. Ali, mi smo postali monstrumi, koji, grickajuci cips i pijuckajuci pivo posmatramo na TV-u ubijanja i razaranja samo kao rdavo režiran film, cvrsto uvereni da se sve to dogada negde daleko, nekom drugom i da mi s tom nesrecom nemamo nikakve veze... Ali, eho tog rata, za koje nas zvanicne vlasti ubeduju da nije naš ("Srbija nije u ratu"), cujemo sve bliže. Nad Beogradom svakodnevno lete helikopteri i svi znamo da im je destinacija VMA, da neko u tom trenutku možda ispušta dušu kao žrtva bezumlja, ili da ce, ako bude imao srece, sutra sa Banjice krenuti sa štakama u svet. I da sve cešce gledamo uživo Lazinu pricu o tome "kao ce sve to narod pozlatiti". Eho tog rata su bombe po kaficima, obracuni i ubistva, ali i još više ona nemocna baka, cista i uredna, doduše okrpljena, možda nekad uciteljica, pored koje sam prošla i vratila se, tamo na Slaviji, da joj istresem u ispruženu ruku sve što sam imala kod sebe, pri tom želeci da pobegnem i da me nema. Prosjaka ima uvek i svuda, narocito na Zapadu, ali samo kod nas danas moraju da prose i oni koji su radili i zaradili. Nas, koji cutimo i nezainteresovano gledamo u šta nas guraju i šta od nas cine, nas koji ne umemo da dreknemo - e, sad je stvarno dosta, nego kao stoka pristajemo na sve gore i gore, tešeci se da i od goreg ima gore, nas koji smo do skora navikavani na sve blagodeti potrošackog društva, a koji sada trpeljivo drhtuljimo u prohladnim stanovima i diveci se vlastitoj intuiciji dovijamo se u prkošenju bedi, nas takve mora da stigne kazna ili da se poubijamo medusobno, ili da nas bombarduju. I u Sarajevu su, kažu, do pred sam rat, pa i na dan kada je tamo poceo rat mislili da nema šanse da se tu zapuca, jer, ne možeš ti, covece, uz cips i pivo da gledaš kako naša artiljerija sravnjuje sa zemljom jedan grad, a da se ne zapitaš - kako bi meni, mom detetu, bolesnoj majci, bilo kome bilo, da neko sedne na Avalu i tuce me odozgo. Ne možeš ti uz cips i pivo da gledaš obogaljenu decu, mrtvu decu. Ne možeš. Pod uslovom da si covek. Ako gangrena zahvati deo tvog organizma, a ti se ponašaš da si kao potpuno zdrav - dogodice ti se da izdahneš u mukama. Ja sam išla da vidim kako taj rat izgleda uživo i prvo sam mislila da su to obicne carke, kaubojština, u kojoj ce glavni akteri, kad se snimanje završi otresti prašinu sa sebe i ustati, jer to je ubijanje samo filmsko. I verovala sam da ce se dogoditi cudo, da ce neko odjednom reci - dosta je bilo, samo smo se šalili. Ali to šala bila nije. Mržnja je neizleciv virus i prenosi se brzo i širi se lako. I mislila sam - nema goreg rata od onog u Hrvatskoj, pa se zapucalo i u Sarajevu. Otišla sam i tamo pa sam onda shvatila da onda više nemam snage. Da necu da pišem o tome kako se ruši grad i kako se ubijaju deca. Jer, Hrvatska je sanatorijum u odnosu na Bosnu. I kada moj kolega Jevric dode iz Bosne i hvali se po redakciji kako siluje muslimanke, svi se tome smeju kao dobrom vicu. Jer, oni nece da misle, da se opterecuju. Jevric to možda ne radi licno, nadam se da ne, ali mnogo njih to radi. I meni to nije smešno. Nije mi ni žalosno. Žao mi samo zato što sam spoznala, kakve su, u stvari, zveri ljudi. Kako lako covek postane zver. Žao mi je jer sam voljom sudbine rodena ovde. A moglo je da se desi da se rodim negde drugde i provedem ceo život u srecnoj zabludi o ljudskom rodu. *** Časopis Tiker, broj 4, 14. april 1993. Nedavno su novine objavile interesantno saopštenje ministarstva za zaštitu životne sredine. Ministarstvo upozorava da se mora striktno poštovati lovostaj na puževe i žabe. Puževi se mogu loviti od tada do tada, a žabe u nešto kracem periodu. Ko to ne bude poštovao, kaže se u saopštenju, može da ode u zatvor. Sve ovo iz razloga što u "Srbiji postoji veliki broj retkih i ugroženih biljnih i životinjskih vrsta" koje treba štititi. Blago puževima i žabama. O njima ima ko da brine. Za pocetak predlažem da se ovakva briga za opstanak puževa i žaba makar terminiloški primenjuje i na ljude, da se umesto primirja ubuduce objavljuju lovostaji. Nemam ništa protiv puževa, a pogotovo protiv žaba, ali ako je neko stvarno ugrožen onda smo to mi, ljudi, svejeno da li je rec o vrsti lovac ili saucesnik. Odavno mi vec pocetkom svakog meseca poštar ispostavlja racun za prijateljstva i kontakte sa bliskim ljudima rasutim po belom svetu. Odavno vec treniram da, umesto negdašnjih beskrajnih caskanja uz kafu, kada telefon zazvoni u gluvo doba noci uz prepoznatljiv prekookeanski šum, skoncentrisano, bez zastajkivanja i zamuckivanja, u slušalicu izdeklamujem sve novosti. Ranije je bilo mnogo teže. Dok se u ovom gradu još živelo, a ne imitrao život, njihovu nostalgiju sam lecila izmišljenim pricama. Sad pricam samo istinite price. Kako izgleda vracati se sa posla preko “Gazele”, na primer. Šarmirati prodavce da unovce cek. Stopirati kao nekad kad ti pri povratku iz grada pobegne poslednji autobus. Živeti bez Jezde i Dafine. S druge strane žice, normalno, suze. I kroz suze Crnjanski: "Ti medutim, rasteš, uz zornjacu jasnu, / sa Avalom plavom, u daljini, kao breg, / Ti treperiš, i kad ovde zvezde gasnu / i topiš, k'o Sunce, i led suza, i lanjski sneg. / U Tebi nema besmisla, ni smrti…" Oni koji su otišli, odneli su sa sobom takav Beograd. Mi koji smo ostali nemamo prava na suze. Te bi suze bile krokodilske. Srodeni, navikunuti vec na izobliceno lice ovog grada, pristajemo da nas guraju u pretrpane autobuse, ucenjuju hlebom, puštaju nam grejanje kad smo dobri, a i tad ne previše – da se ne razmazimo, organizuju nam cak i štrajkove, jer im vec neprijatno od tolike trpeljivosti, teraju nas bivše knjigovode i proneveritelji da pobožno stojimo u redovima, pri cemu im imamo biti zahvalni što smo još živi. Gledala sam ljude u Sarajevu, na pocetku rata, kako strpljivo stoje u redovima za hleb. Cinili su to kao da su se rodili u redu za hleb. Nisu se bunili, valjda zato što su znali da ima i gore. Nisu dugo cekali. Sada ih gledam kako pretrcavaju ulice, zaboravljajuci da su ikada hodali. Znaju da i od toga ima gore. A ako ih to snade bice im svejedno i za hleb i za trcanje. To što se zove smrt postalo je poslednji, donji prag izdržljivosti. Naravoucenije – nije smak sveta kad Jezda zbriše, a Dafina pocne da priprema odstupnicu. Ko se liši dostojanstva postaje kišna glista koja puzi i jedini smisao života mu se svede na to kako da eskivira dan koji ce ga lišiti života. Bednog, ali jedinog što mu preostaje. Prestala sam da idem na ratište onda kada su na front nahrupili oni koji su rat shvatili i prikazivali kao dobar provod i avanturu, znajuci da imaju gde da se vrate kada im ratovanje dosadi. Zahvaljujuci takvima, narod koji strada, kuce koje pale i gradovi koje zatiru, postali su nebitni. Rat je postao estrada za one koji su umeli vešto da promovišu i unovce svoj licemerni, lažni patriotizam. Prošlo je neko vreme, dovoljno da pocnu da se uoblicavaju konture novih ofanziva. Pocele su vec da se obeležavaju godišnjice pojedinih bitaka i pobeda, upotpunjene, normalno, romansiranim momentima. Jedina sreca u nesreci moje, žrtvovane generacije, jeste u tome što nas kao svedoke ovog puta nece moci da lažu. Necemo im dozvoliti ponovo da falsifikuju. Moje tekstove sada cenzurišu zbog toga što ne mogu da se složim sa tim da je patriotizam precutkivanje greške i zablude i da je rodoljublje po novinama veštacki podgrevati imidž idealnih likova voda iza kojih se, u stvarnosti, cesto kriju nesposobne i štetne face. Da je u nacionalnom interesu redigovati i prepravljati nepismene izjave tih neobrazovanih i banalnih tipova, kojima je neko dekretom odredio da budu merne jedinice patriotizma.. Dok je besneo rat punom žestinom nije me bilo strah da obilazim rovove. Istinski strah doživela sam u “oslobodenom” Vukovaru. A zatim nedavno u Belom Manastiru, gde me je presreo tip, tacnije grmalj, naoružan i prek, preteci "da ce me nauciti pameti", iz samo njemu poznatih razloga. Vratila sam se kuci sa mucnim utiskom da bi se takav neko mogao uskoro pojaviti u ovom gradu u liku oslobodioca. Nije mi dozvoljeno da taj st r ah saopštim javno. Blago puževima i žabama. *** Snimci telefonskih razgovora
1991\'92, 1995 |
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 21.
[mp3 ~ 444 kb]Radovan Karadžić i Miladin Nedić 4. novembar 1991. O nespremnosti Srba iz BiH za učestvovanje u ratu u Hrvatskoj
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* * * Shame
of camp Omarska We will not rest until the international community has gained access to all detention camps in Bosnia, President Bush said last night. Ed Vulliamy has already been inside several, including Omarska in north-eastern Serb-occupied Bosnia. Here, he provides the first eyewitness account in a British newspaper of the starvation and human rights abuses being inflicted on the captives 'I don't want to tell any lies, but I cannot tell the truth,' says
the young man, emaciated, sunken-eyed, and attacking his watery bean
stew like a famished dog, his spindly hands shaking. They are lined up by a prison guard, a civilian policeman, and then, as part of some pathetic camp drill, they run in single file across a courtyard and into the camp canteen, under the watchful eye of a beefy policeman with a machine gun in a glass observation post. There are no barked orders they know the drill only too well. In the well-kept kitchen they line up again and wait for their ration: a bowl of beans augmented with breadcrumbs and a piece of bread, which they wolf down in silence at the metal tables, before quickly and obediently forming another line by the door, and then running in line back across the yard, into the aluminium shed. The meal takes five minutes. It appears to be their only one of the day. If they ate even twice as much they would be only slightly less gaunt and withered. Some take their bread with them to eat later. Then the next 30 appear, and jog across the yard. Omarska is an old iron mine and ore processing plant. It is now the most notorious on a list published by the Bosnian government naming 57 of what it calls 'concentration camps'. Neither the International Red Cross nor the United Nations - nor any press - had visited it before we arrived on Wednesday, although the international agencies have expressed acute concern about the Bosnian-Muslim allegations. The unexpected and unexplained access to Omarska was part of an invitation by the Bosnian-Serbian president, Radovan Karazdic, a challenge to the Guardian and Independent Television News to inspect 'whatever you wish to see' in response to the concentration camp allegations. 'I'll eat my lunch first, then talk,' says Sebakoudin Elezovic. 'Every day is the same, like this, just doing nothing and waiting to eat. The old people and children move on, I don't know where. 'I was in the defence force - but not caught in a fight. I tried to get to Trnopolje transit camp (a civilian camp) but the army caught me on the way and brought me here.' Sebakoudin, who shows no signs of beating, says: 'We are being investigated. Because I know that nothing can be hidden, I tell the truth and hope I will be OK. If I am guilty, then I'll have to face the consequences. I speak only of myself - personally, nobody touched me.' And with that, unwilling to discuss the matter any further as the soldiers approach the table, he rises to make way for the next lunch shift. Most of the inmates are too visibly terrified to talk. We decline to interview people selected by the authorities, preferring to try finding our own inmates to talk to, but we are bundled away upstairs for a briefing. Omarska , they tell us, is an 'investigation centre' for men suspected of being in the Muslim irregular army. They are rounded up or arrested, then 'screened' to determine whether they are fighters or civilians. Apart from their under nourishment and the humiliation of the drill, none of the 80 inmates we saw showed signs of violence or beating. Those found to have 'prepared the rebellion' go into 'category A', explains the police chief's spokeswoman, Nada Balban. There have been 126. They are awaiting trial. Those found to be fighters are 'category B' and go eventually to a prisoner of war camp at Manjaca, to which the Red Cross has been admitted (and to which the Serbian military were eager to steer us, rather than Omarska ), and then to a military court. There have been 1,290. Others go to the Trnopolje camp down the road, about which refugees have made some serious allegations - this is the biggest group, 1,400 strong. Interestingly, Omarska and Trnopolje are run by the civil authorities, not the army. Ms Balban admits: 'No one is proud. There is shame here. If there is a place similar to this in Sarajevo, for our people, then let's change it . . . Yes, hostages of course, we do have some hostages for exchange. We have offered people since the first day of the war. But the other side does not want it.' Though this may be true of Omarska , it is generally untrue, since a camp we visited on the outskirts of Sarajevo has been established solely for the purpose of swapping Muslim captives for Serbs. After the briefing, Dr Karazdic's invitation to us collapses. We ask to be shown into the rust-coloured shed and to see the sleeping quarters, workshops or whatever. There is shooting in the woods near the camp (either a Muslim attack or a Serbian prank, it is impossible to tell), as there was around us as we arrived, and our safety is at risk, say the police. Suggestions that we are safer in the camp than outside it are overruled. Then Ms Balban explains: 'The politicians are sitting on two chairs. They have their promises, but we have our procedures, and we cannot do everything. You must know we have orders. You have your reasons, we have others. He (Dr Karazdic) promised us something else.' So the aluminium shed conceals some secret. It is a secret the international agencies must uncover if the miasma of lies, propaganda, exaggeration, denial, comparisons with the Nazi Holocaust, claims and counter-claims about concentration camps, is to be more than partially penetrated. The International Red Cross and the UN have not been admitted, Ms Balban says, 'because this is not a camp, it is a centre.' She claims that 'there is no demand from them or anyone else to come here.' But, under pressure, she then promises: 'We would allow them to come here. Why not?' Back in the town of Prijedor, women line the pavement outside police headquarters, waiting for transit papers to leave the area. Some say their menfolk had been in Omarska for four months. Some of the inmates we were allowed to see had clearly not eaten properly for weeks or months. And although there was no visible evidence of serious violence, let alone systematic extermination, inside the aluminium shed is something it was worth them breaking Dr Karazdic's promise to avoid exposing. Omarska has been visited by the Serbian-run Yugoslav Red Cross, and given a clean bill of health. Dr Dusko Ivic, working at the Trnopolje camp, said on Wednesday: 'I have visited Omarska and my professional assessment about the health of the people is very good, apart from some diarrhoea.' Trnopolje camp, down another 10 miles of dirt road, is claimed by the Muslim government to be the second biggest 'concentration camp'. Here, Muslim doctors among the internees said people arrived from Omarska and another 'investigation centre' at Kereter in terrible condition. Evidence was passed to the Guardian and ITN in the form of a roll of undeveloped film. Here is complete confusion - political and physical. The camp is a ramshackle fenced-in compound around a former school. The men stand stripped to the waist, in their thousands, against the wire in the relentless afternoon heat the women and children seek shade upstairs in the crowded, smelly building. They wait, stare at nothing, sweat - and wonder what will happen next. One group has arrived from Kereter that morning, claiming that they had been beaten, but showing no signs of it. However, says pitifully thin Fikrit Alic: 'It is worse than here. There is no food.' Others in the group looked better fed. Another boy, Icic Budo, says 'they killed 200 people' at Kereter and 'many more at Omarska '. He has seen no bodies himself, but another boy had seen one corpse near the main gate. Trnopolje cannot be called a 'concentration camp' and is nowhere as sinister as Omarska : it is very grim, something between a civilian prison and transit camp. The Yugoslav Red Cross has a small station here, and there are meagre cooking facilities. These boys had been rounded up in their villages. Some call Trnopolje a refugee camp, but Fikrit Acic says: 'It is a prison camp, but not a PoW camp. We are not fighters. They came to our village, Kozarac. (Now literally flattened by fighting.) I was near my house they put us on the buses and brought us to Kereter for a while, and then here.' Icic Budo adds: 'The fact is, they do not want us to live here any more. They want us and our families to go, if we can find our families. I don't know where mine is.' But some people have fled voluntarily to Trnopolje simply to avoid the raging battles in the villages around. Inar Gornic, clutching her crying baby in what was the school 'Foto Klub' room, says: 'I came alone, from the Trnopolje village. The conditions are very hard here, but there was terrible fighting and we had no food at all. It is safer here, but we don't know what kind of status we have. We are refugees, but there are guards and the wire fence.' 'No violence against us, just hot and smelly,' adds her husband, vacantly, among the sea of rugs, sweaty blankets and the odd mattress strewn along the floors and corridors, while primative bread ovens are set up outside. Stories in Trnopolje, more freely told than at Omarska , are brimful of the squalid violence and black absurdity of civil war. There is Sana, aged 13, who says: 'I was a fighter for the Muslims. They used to put us at the front when the fighting started. I was so scared that I ran away to the Serbian side of the village, to come here. I am still frightened, but I feel safer.' Then there is Igor, the Serbian soldier and guard whose uncle was killed last week, and who says: 'I have my old schoolfriends and my teacher in there,' and then introduces his old pal Azmir, a professional footballer, from behind the wire. 'I was taken here from Rizvanovici, after the fighting started,' says Azmir. 'There was some shooting from the Muslim side, then the police came and took the people away, to clear the village of Muslims and to do the fighting.' The situation is, says Azmir, that he can leave only if his family arrive to claim him, or if he can produce some sort of guarantee or transit papers. 'But how am I supposed to do that?' The authorities claim they are organising such papers, as they have done at other camps inside Serbia. (One 'concentration camp' on the Muslim list at Subotica is, in effect, a transit centre for issuing papers. Last Friday, it contained eight Turks charged with drugs trafficking.) But in the chaos, it could take time enough to turn Trnopolje into a swelling nightmare. 'I do not know what to do, or where my mother and father are,' Azmir says. 'It is not easy to think about what on earth we are doing here.' The landscape from which these people - in Omarska and Trnopolje - have been harvested is a desperate arena of war, destruction and human movement: prisoners and refugees from all sides. For 10 miles down the road from Prijedor to Banja Luka almost every Muslim house is gutted and empty. In Banja Luka, itself, buses are arriving, bringing Serbs from hostile Zagreb and the fighting in Sarajevo. They greet their relatives tearfully. 'I have come to bring my parents here,' says Drazna. 'Although I will go back to Zagreb. It is very difficult for us there now, but I have my job, and if I lose it I cannot feed my family and aunts and uncles back here.' Others had terrible stories of Muslim advances into their quarters of Sarajevo. The Serbs will take houses belonging to Banja Luka Muslims who have either left voluntarily or been moved out. The pathetic convoy from Zagreb has crossed the battle lines under the auspices of Unprofor, the UN peacekeeping force, as will the Muslims in the opposite direction. Jan Bolling, the UN official organising this move, is frank about the choices for those on both sides, between moving and the camps. 'We are not interested in any ethnic cleansing whatsoever. But now we face the situation where we must choose between either that or straightforward persecution, and our job is first of all to protect people.' As ever in this war, there are extraordinary elements that complicate any simple interpretation. Women flock into Prijedor, carrying their children, telling how their menfolk were rounded up and taken to Omarska , Kereter or Trnopolje, and never seen again. Some villages are completely destroyed. But down the road are other Muslim villages intact, peasants calmly bringing in the hay. Every house hangs a white flag - a piece of sheet or pillowcase - from the roof or from a tree: it is a guarantee against Omarska or Trnopolje. 'These are the people who accept the Serbian republic,' explains Major Milovan Milutonic from Army HQ in Banja Luka. 'If they do that, we just leave them alone.' There are Croatian communities around Banja Luka too, exchanging their docility to the new order for a relatively quiet life. There are Serbian refugees on the move, too. Heavy fighting this week between the army and Croatians around Brcko - a Serbian town now reduced to virtual rubble - has shrunk part of the Serbian corridor through northern Bosnia to a network of dirt roads. And along those dirt roads last Tuesday, groups of refugees gathered with their few belongings in the dust thrown up by juggernauts, waiting for trucks and buses to take them back to their refugee camps in Serbia. Then there is the Serbian counter-argument to the accusations of concentration camps. Firstly, that of Milan Kovacevic, who, as president of the executive council of Prijedor, is technically responsible for Omarska and Trnopolje. He was born in Jasenovac, the Croatian Ustashe camp where 750,000 Serbs and Jews were killed between 1941 and 1945. 'We know what is a concentration camp, better than the English,' he says. 'Many of us passed through them, and what you will see here is not a concentration camp. We are accused of genocide. There is no genocide.' That was before the abrupt end to the visit to Omarska . 'And also please remember we are at war,' he adds. 'The civilians will be provided with documents and can leave. The soldiers will be investigated and tried.' The Serbs have their own list of 'concentration camps' where they claim their people are also being held and killed by Croatian and Muslim authorities. Private correspondence from the Serbian-Bosnian government to the International Red Cross refers to them as 'alleged detention centres'. However, the Serbian authorities complain that the Western media have made no attempt to discover what the conditions are like in camps on the other side. The principal camps on the Serb list are at Tarcin, near Sarajevo, various underground locations in Sarajevo, in the beseiged town of Tuzla still held by Muslims, the soccer stadium at Bihac and an underground camp at Zenica. The Serbian army in Sarajevo claims that its siege of Gorazde is held in check by the fact that the Muslims have 3,000 Serbs held hostage behind the defensive lines. * * * Dial-a-dictator Over the coming months a court in the Hague will hear lurid details of Slobodan Milosevic's reign of terror. Meanwhile, his countrymen are enjoying an altogether more bizarre side to the former dictator's life, courtesy of Croatian intelligence, who secretly tapped his phone between 1995 and 1998. Below are a few choice cuts SM: Hello, Goran, watching the match? GM: Ah, its you president! I'm watching and I'm rather enjoying myself. SM: I don't know if I should send them a wire. GM: When? SM: When the game is over. I think. GM: That would be wonderful. SM: This is a triumphant return to the world football stage. GM: That would be ideal. SM: Write something like that. I congratulate you sincerely, to all members of the national team, OK, sincere congratulations to all members of the national team for the triumphant return to the international sporting stage. I don't know; is anything else required? GM: I'll probably say the same, to tell you right now. Should I ring you when it's over? SM: Right. GM: Right. SM: And you can dispatch it when we agree, and do it now while it's half-time. GM: Yes. It's exactly what I thought. I'll do it straight away. SM: Isn't it a triumphant return to the world sporting stage? GM: And I believe there will be some more goals. That's really wonderful. SM: Well, three goals in the first half. I think this is a triumphant return to the sporting stage, which is not only current but also a symbolic significance after this rupture. However, towards the end of the match... SM: Fuck their mothers, in the second half, they have two left feet. I couldn't watch any more. GM: They've slackened considerably. SM: Is it still three to one? GM: Yes it is. SM: Well, I think, what can you do? GM: Well, yes. A victory is a victory. SM: Oh well, doesn't matter. GM: I shouldn't send anything? SM: Nah, send it. They won. It should be done. As part of his ongoing beautification programme, Marko Milosevic, Slobodan's son, is thinking of changing his teeth. He's speaking from Rome on March 23 1997 to his mother regarding the work that needs to be done. Marko: Mum, I'm changing all my teeth. I've got 29 teeth in my head, and I'm changing 29. I'm not fixing them, I'm changing them. Mira: It's well known that in the west healthcare is a terrible thing. Inhuman. They think of it as a consumable and badly rip foreigners off. Yugoslavs who have things done abroad always regret it and say they could have done it for free or much cheaper in this country. Marko: This is a Croatian. Mira: You're really loopy. In this conversation, Marko who, in the opinion of his father, is the businessman of the family, calls home to discuss a new venture. Marko: Daddy, where's mum? SM: Why do you need mum when your dad's here? Marko: I've got an idea, dad. SM: Tell me. Marko: Because you're a conservative type, I won't ask you but mum. SM: Ask me. Marko: Ask you? SM: Tell me. Marko: I know your answer in advance. SM: Tell me. Marko: What do you think if I open a maternity ward? SM: What do you mean a maternity ward? Marko: A maternity ward, you know what a maternity ward looks like. SM: I know. Marko: I employ reputable gynaecologists from Pozarevac, offer acceptable prices, best conditions, separate rooms for women with all creature comforts. SM: Don't fuck around with me. Better hang on to Madona [Marko's discotheque] and work that. Marko: But I didn't think of opening a ward in the Madona. That's not compatible. SM: So where did you think of doing it? Marko: I'd make it somewhere else, independently from the discotheque. I'm simply thinking of pursuits which are lucrative yet at the same time socially gratifying. SM: Yes, and where would you build it? Marko: Somewhere next to you in Cacalica. SM: Next to Cacalica? Marko: Beautiful greenery, fenced park, garden, nice rooms with TV, satellite, telephone, bathroom. Visiting permitted at all times. Here doctors charge dearly just to let the husband attend childbirth. SM: This is a trifle expensive. Marko: Yes, but generally what do you think? SM: Generally speaking it's not such a bad thing in a humanitarian sense, but businesswise it's nothing. Rubbish! Marko: Dad, do you know how much an abortion costs in these shacks here in Pozarevac? SM: I don't. Marko: 150 deutschmarks. SM: Marko, in a maternity ward there are no abortions. That's where children are born. At this point the exasperated Slobodan passes the handset to Mira and she listens for a while. Mira: It's a super idea. Marko: You're my mum, you're my mum! Mira: Super. Of course, isn't this wonderful? At the beginning of 1997, Marko moves into his new house with a swimming pool. He speaks to mum and dad. Marko: Do you know that the water in the pool is 38 degrees? SM: You're a fool, you. That is unhealthy. Marko: Yeah, right. It should be 18. SM: It shouldn't be over 30, why do you keep goofing around? Marko: Why shouldn't it be? I bathe at 40. Slobodan gives up and Mira enters the conversation. Mira: My dear, my sweet puppy. Marko: I heated up the water in the swimming pool, sweetie, to 38 degrees. Do you know how wonderful that is? Mira: Tell mummy what are you doing? Marko: Mum, I haven't left the house for 72 hours. Mira: Oh, my dear, this is wonderful. Isn't it magical there? Marko: And you know what? I realised that in these conditions you can't suffer from lack of appetite or insomnia, and those are former problems of mine. Firstly, I'll put on weight here because I eat like an abyss. Secondly, I can't suffer from insomnia or be bored because I have so many kinds of distraction. I don't leave the house at all. Sweetie, if you knew how convenient this floor heating is. There's none of this thing when you tread barefoot and your foot sticks. There is no draught, no cold air, it's beautiful. Mira: (laughs) Enjoy yourself, dear. Marko: And I've done something clever. Ljubisa asked me before New Year what should he get me and I've told him to get me some really good trainers which I'll need to wear round the house and when I go out. Now I have new trainers and I haven't taken the tag off, and when I go into the house I take my shoes off, put my trainers on so I'm wearing the clean trainers round the house. Mira: But please wear slippers. Marko: What? Mira: Wear slippers. Marko: Why? Mira: Well, in the evening when you lay down you must have your slippers beside you when you go and pee. Marko: Ah, then I don't have to because I have this floor heating, so I can go barefoot. Mira: Don't, it's uncouth. It's naff. Marko: OK, mum. Mira: Mum loves you. Slobodan Milosevic: Did you read Politika today? Hadzi-Antic: No, I didn't. Why? SM: Listen, you. This is disgraceful. I know you don't read your own paper, but something as important as the visit of the American president in the region you can't let any fucking twerp cover as they please. To make it worse it is assumed Politika represents the official view of Yugoslavia. Why should you spit on Clinton like that? Fuck it. Why should you spit on him? Firstly, he didn't deserve to be spat on, he came with the best intentions. Secondly, how dare Politika do this? H: You think he spat on him, sir? SM: He didn't spit on him, he trampled on him for fuck's sake. You say that he came here for a photo opportunity, to cover up that he's a Vietnam deserter, because of the Whitewater affair, that he came to commit the darkest and the most terrible fucking deeds! H: Yes. SM: Are you out of your fucking mind. I'm trying to build something here and you ruin everything, you kick and spit on everything. H: I really don't know. SM: I think so. Believe me, this is an event without precedent. H: Yes. SM: To spit on an American president like this because of a positive thing he's doing. Fuck it, you didn't spit on him like this when there was bombing going on. H: Yes, yes. SM: And then you tell me you support the politics of peace. You fuck Clinton who came to the region because of it. H: Yes I know, what should we do now? SM: Nothing, write the editorial like you should H: Right away, I'll do it today. I'll do this concerning his visit now. And all that happened and in relation to it. That it was exceedingly positive. Milosevic's daughter, Marija, who owns a TV station, is getting ready for New Year's Eve. SM: Marija, some magazine voted me as one of the 14 greatest personalities in the world. Now I'm all over the telly. Please get me off the news, I'm sick and tired of myself. Marija: That's really nice. SM: Please, don't. It's enough. It just spoils my mood when I watch the news. Tell them its enough, let them run the New Year's Eve programme, fuck me. I think both God and the people are bored of me, myself included. Marija: All right, my darling, but not me! *** The warlord of Visegrad Nine years ago, the Guardian uncovered a shocking, forgotten story from the Balkan wars. Bosnian Muslims from one small town had been murdered in their thousands and their bodies thrown from its ancient bridge. Survivors blamed one man for the atrocities; this week, after seven years on the run, he was arrested in Argentina . Ed Vulliamy, the reporter who uncovered the story, and Nerma Jelacic, who fled Visegrad to escape the massacre, report on the hunt for Milan Lukic For centuries, although wars had crisscrossed the Drina, Visegrad had remained a town two-thirds Bosnian Muslim and one-third Bosnian Serb. The communities entwined, few caring who was what. But in the spring of 1992, a hurricane of violence was unleashed by Bosnian Serbs against their Muslim neighbours in Visegrad, with similar attacks along the Drina valley and other parts of Bosnia. Visegrad is one of hundreds of forgotten names, while the iconic Srebrenica echoes down history. But Visegrad was especially vicious. Night after night, truckloads of Bosnian Muslim civilians were taken down to the bridge and riverbank by Bosnian Serb paramilitaries, unloaded, sometimes slashed with knives, sometimes shot, and thrown into the river, dead or in various states of half-death, turning the turquoise of the Drina red with blood. As well as the slaughter on the bridge, hundreds of Muslims were packed into houses across Visegrad and incinerated alive, including women and children. Visegrad was, too, the location for the one of the most infamous rape camps, at a spa called Vilina Vlas, where Muslim women and girls were violated all night, every night, to the point of madness and sometimes suicide. As elsewhere, the pogrom was carried out on orders from the Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadzic and his military counterpart General Ratko Mladic, both still wanted for genocide. And as elsewhere, the persecution and mass murder was overseen by a "Crisis Committee", established in every Bosnian Serb community. But anyone who survived the ravages of Visegrad will testify that the atrocities invariably bore the hallmark - directly or indirectly - of one man above all: Milan Lukic. On Monday, after seven years on the run from the war crimes tribunal in The Hague, he was arrested outside his apartment in Buenos Aires. For many in Bosnia, Lukic is a man who possibly has more blood directly on his hands than any other individual. There are many for whom the capture of Lukic is third in importance only to that of Karadzic and Mladic. For Lukic - now likely to be extradited to The Hague - the arrest means the end of 13 long and remarkable years as alleged mass killer, alleged criminal gangster and someone said to have enjoyed, but lost, the cover of both the Serbian state and the network that protects Karadzic himself. The atrocities of 1992, which rid Visegrad of some 14,000 Muslims - put to flight or to death - remained the secret of scattered survivors for a long time. Years passed before Lukic's name first appeared in public, in this newspaper. In early 1996, the Guardian was invited to meet some survivors of the fall of Muslim enclaves at Srebrenica and Zepa, evacuated to a mental hospital in Dublin. Among them was a teenager called Jasmin R, who had fled Visegrad to Zepa in 1992, but was too young to fight. His duty, he said, was to help haul bloated corpses from a lonely junction between the Drina and Zepa rivers, for burial. Which bodies? The ones, he said, from the bridge at Visegrad. With a man called Mersud, he brought the bodies in by small boat, at night, to avoid sniper fire. "We dug the graves," he said calmly, "and buried 180 people." Later investigations established that about one body in 20 that floated by was rescued. The search for Lukic began by locating Mersud himself, who confirmed Jasmin's story and knew and remembered Lukic well; he had "seemed a good guy" during peacetime. It then emerged that in June 1992, a Visegrad police inspector, Milan Josipovic, had received a macabre complaint from the manager of Bajina Basta hydroelectric plant across the Serbian border, asking whoever was responsible to please slow the flow of corpses down the Drina. They were clogging up the culverts in his dam, well downriver from Jasmin's and Mersud's Zepa graveyard. Witnesses to the slaughter were tracked down, across Bosnia and Europe. All recalled a red Volkswagen Passat car (which Lukic had coveted, whose owner he was said to have shot and which he had commandeered) present at the scene. Fehida D, from her balcony, watched "Lukic, in his Passat, and the trucks behind, arrived on the bridge each evening. Sometimes they would throw people off alive, shooting at the same time." Hasena M, who escaped execution and ended up in a forced labour camp, had crouched near the bridge and "watched them put my mother and sister astride the parapet, like on a horse. I heard both women screaming, until they were shot in the stomach. They fell in the water - the men laughing as they watched. The water went red." Zehra T, her face and hands deformed by fire, recalled her escape from a house at Bikavac, into which some 70 people had been locked and burned to death, corralled there, she said, by Lukic and others. Esma K recalled being taken to another house, and imprisoned. "The Passat arrived at 5pm," she said, and within four hours "the sky was light because the house was in flames". She had escaped through a window. There were others, but not many. Indeed, there are not many Muslims who remained during that late spring left to remember. Even at the war's end in 1995, one Muslim soldier recalls, at the fall of Zepa, Lukic patrolling the columns of surrendering troops, calling: "Anyone from Visegrad, step out of line!" Even then, his work was unfinished. The Guardian's account of the bloodletting was published in March 1996, and Milan Lukic was indicted by The Hague two years later for "extermination of a significant number of Bosnian Muslim civilians, including women, children and the elderly", along with his cousin Sredoje and another man, Mitar Vasijevic, who has been tried and convicted. Accordingly, the next phase of Lukic's life began. For years, neither Bosnian Serb nor Serbian authorities showed an inclination to hand Lukic over. He was seen around Visegrad and Serbia, owning an apartment in Belgrade. He was repeatedly charged with racketeering and other organised crime, arrested three times in Serbia - but each time released. While The Hague sought Lukic, subject to their rules of secrecy, so too did the entwined Sarajevo-based journalistic enterprises, the Institute for War and Peace Reporting and Balkan Investigative Reporting Network. In April 2004, IWPR/Birn published an account, based on Bosnian Serb intelligence sources and confirmed by Bosnian state intelligence, of what Lukic had been up to. The report linked Lukic to fugitive leader Radovan Karadzic in two ways: one, he was allegedly part of a lucrative drug-smuggling ring connected to Karadzic's business network. The profits funded a second connection: the elusive and armed "Preventiva" network which protects Karadzic - and which also provided cover for Lukic. And, Lukic was doubly protected: his cousin and patron Sretan Lukic was deputy interior minister of the Serbian state, effectively chief of police. But around January 2003, Lukic and the Preventiva quarrelled - there were even reports of a shoot-out with Karadzic's guards. The fallout meant that Lukic was at risk on Bosnian Serb soil, even in Visegrad. Then, in March, came a second blow. Cousin Sretan was indicted by The Hague, removed from his Serbian ministerial post and subsequently deported to face trial. And then a third: in April, police from the "Republika Srpska" entity of Bosnia stormed Lukic's family home in Visegrad in a raid connected to "narcotics and smuggling". By mistake, they shot dead not Milan Lukic, but his innocent brother, Novica. Lukic, no longer safe, reportedly made overtures to the Hague, with a view to surrender and cooperation over finding and convicting Karadzic, and for his own safety. But he twice failed to show at attempted rendezvous with the tribunal's tracking team. In September 2003 - with pressure mounting on Serbia to cooperate with The Hague and as a sign that the wind had changed direction for Lukic - a court in Serbia sentenced him in absentia to 20 years in jail for the execution of 16 Muslims taken from a bus on the Bosnian-Serbian border in 1993. By the time of the IWPR/Birn report in April 2004, Lukic had vanished from Visegrad and his usual haunts in Serbia. He resurfaced in an impenitent email from a server in Brazil. He said those suggesting he was "a traitor to Radovan Karadzic" were speaking "a shameless and unscrupulous lie". While insisting that he was "never ... close enough to [Karadzic] to know what his movements were", Lukic nevertheless pledged that "Mladic has always been and will remain the true hero and idol, and Karadzic the leader of my people". Lukic told Argentinian judges on Tuesday that he had been in Brazil, entering Argentina on a false passport bearing the Serbian name of Goran Djukanovic. He said he was preparing to surrender to The Hague, implying that this was for his own safety, and that he feared people on his own side, Karadzic's people. He told the court: "I know lots of things happened during the war, and I was afraid that they would kill me because there are many who do not want it known what happened. As the saying goes: better to be a tongue without a voice." *** Tri puta hapšen u Srbiji i oslobađan Britanski list "Guardian" i londonski Institut za rat imir iznose detalje o tome zašto je haški bjegunac Milan Lukic sve do sada bio na slobodi. I dok uhapšeni tvrdi kako nije kriv, žrtve njegovih zlocina za Radio Slobodna Evropa svjedoce... Britanski dnevnik napominje kako je Haški tribunal podigao optužnicu protiv Milana Lukica 1998. godine, “zbog ubistava velikog broja bošnjackih civila, medu kojima su bili žene, djeca i stari ljudi”. S njim su u zlocinu ucestvovali i njegov rodak Sredoje i Milan Vasiljevic, koji su poslije uhvaceni i osudeni. List istice kako pune cetiri godine ni zvanicnici bosanskih Srba ni Srbije nisu pokazali namjeru da uhvate Lukica i izruce ga sudu. Za to vrijeme vidan je u okolini Višegrada i u Srbiji, gdje je imao stan u Beogradu. Lukic je u više navrata optuživan za reketiranje i druge vidove organizovanog kriminala, zbog cega je u Srbiji hapšen tri puta, ali ga je srbijanska policija svaki put puštala na slobodu. U analizi razloga zašto su srpski zvanicnici ignorisali Lukiceve zlocine i zahtjeve za njegovo hapšenje, pozivajuci se na istraživanja Istituta za rat i mir, list navodi da je on na više nacina imao vezu sa Radovanom Karadžicem. Bio je clan lanca za krijumcarenje droge, koji je bio ukljucen u Karadžicevu poslovnu mrežu. Profitom ostvarenim rasturanjem droge finansirana je neuhvatljiva oružana grupacija pod nazivom “Preventiva”, ciji je neposredan zadatak bio zaštita Radovana Karadžica. Na taj nacin je bio pokriven i sam Lukic. Pored toga, posebno ga je štitio njegov rodak Sreten Lukic, koji je bio pomocnik srbijanskog ministra unutrašnjih poslova, odnosno šef policije u toj državi. Pocetkom 2003. godine Lukic je došao u sukob sa clanovima grupacije “Preventiva”, koja je brinula o Karadžicevoj zaštiti, i cak je došlo do neposrednog oružanog obracuna sa njegovim cuvarima. Nadležni su zakljucili da je on rizik za srpske interese, cak i u Višegradu, i stavljen je u stranu. Lukiceva sigurnost je bitno ugrožena u martu te godine, kada je njegov rodak Sreten, šef srbijanske policije, smijenjen i deportovan u Hag. Policija Republike Srpske je nakon toga pokušala uhapsiti Milana Lukica u kuci njegovih roditelja u Višegradu, pri cemu je greškom ubila njegovog brata Novicu. U meduvremenu, pod snažnim pritiskom obaveze saradnje sa Haškim tribunalom, srbijanski sud je osudio Lukica u odsustvu na 20 godina zatvora zbog ubistva 16 bošnjackih civila, koje je oteo iz autobusa na bosansko-srbijanskoj granici 1993. godine. Istraživaci “Guardiana” isticu kako je poslije toga Milan Lukic zakljucio da mu je najsigurnija predaja Haškom tribunalu i nagodba u vezi pomoci za hapšenje Karadžica. Ni na jednom od dva zakazana susreta sa haškim istražiteljima se, medutim, nije pojavio. Argentinskoj policiji, koja ga je uhapsila prije tri dana u Buenos Airesu, Lukic je rekao da želi deportaciju u Hag, jer bi izrucenje Srbiji znacilo opasnost za njegov život. Svoje strahovanje je obrazložio cinjenicom da zna mnogo o ratnim dešavanjima, zbog cega bi mogao biti ubijen zato što mnogi u Srbiji žele da to i dalje ostane tajna. ***** Veze izmedu dvojice haških optuženika, Milana Lukica i Radovana Karadžica, bile su vrlo bliske i obuhvatale su lepezu poslova koje su obuhvatale Lukicevu povezanost sa Karadžicevom finansijskom mrežom koja se bavila krijumcarenjem narkotika, navode neki izvori medu kojima je i londonski Institut za rat i mir. Novinar Miroslav Filipovic, dopisnik Londonskog dnevnika ''Indipendent'' i saradnik Instituta za rat i mir, nedvosmisleno potvrduje da su Lukic i Karadžic bili u kontaktima u vreme kada je Lukic boravio u Srbiji i Republici Srpskoj i podvlaci: ''Od momenta kada je Lukic morao da beži, morao je da misli na sebe i svoje preživljavanje, tako da mislim da su ti kontakti bili malo prekinuti. Sve ono što mi znamo o Lukicu i što znamo o psihologiji tih ljudi kada su uhapšeni, govori da su oni vrlo spremni za saradnju sa sudom, tako da ja verujem da je Lukic spreman sve da isprica, sve ono što zna, a to je dosta, jer je on bio vrlo važan covek u svemu tome.'' A evo kako na mogucnost da Milan Lukic pred istražiteljima Haškog tribunala govori o svojim vezama sa Radovanom Karadžicem gleda ministar pravde u Vladi Srbije Zoran Stojkovic: ''Govorimo o pretpostavkama. To je stvar njegove odbrane, kako ce se braniti. Ne mogu da kažem nešto što ja ne znam pouzdano.'' Ovdašnji mediji izveštavali su da je Lukic u vreme režima Slobodana Miloševica vidan u okolini Višegrada, da je imao stan u Beogradu, te da je u nekoliko navrata pritvaran zbog reketiranja i ucešca u organizovanom kriminalu. Jedan od celnika DOS-ove vlade, koji je želeo da ostane anoniman, potvrdio je da je sadašnji haški zatvorenik, a u vreme DOS-ove vlasti nacelnik resora javne bezbednosti MUP-a Srbije Sreten Lukic, u nekoliko navrata 2000. godine izvlacio Milana Lukica iz pritvora, upravo po nalogu Slobodana Miloševica, ali i Biljane Plavšic. Isti funkcioner tvrdi da Sreten Lukic nije u rodbinskim odnosima sa Milanom Lukicem, kako su navodili brojni mediji, vec su njih dvojica iz istog sela koje se i zove Lukici, iz okoline Višegrada. ''Mogu da kažem da je osuden kod nas u odsustvu i poternicu smo dali vec ranije i u skladu sa tim cemo u roku od 30 dana, koji je ostavljen, staviti zahtev za izrucenje našem sudu kako bi mogli da ga sudimo u našoj zemlji. Medutim, kako Haški tribunal ima prioritet, to ce u ovom slucaju Milan Lukic biti izrucen Haškom tribunalu. Naša poternica ostaje i dalje, s obzirom da svaka mogucnost da se dode do lica kojem je sudeno u odsustvu obavezuje našu zemlju da završi sa poternicom i izrekne adekvatnu kaznu, s tim što cemo morati da cekamo da se okonca postupak pred Haškim tribunalom.'' Na posletku, minulih dana u javnosti su se mogle cuti razlicite interpretacije Lukicevog lociranja i hapšenja. Izvor koji važi za vrlo informisan preneo je Radiju Slobodna Evropa verziju dogadaja prema kojoj je kljucnu ulogu u Lukicevom hapšenju odigrao nacelnik resora državne bezbednosti u vreme Miloševicevog režima Jovica Stanišic, koji je Haškom tribunalu ukazao da se ovaj optuženik nalazi upravo u Buenos Airesu. Stanišic je, prema ovoj verziji dogadaja, istražiteljima Tribunala, želeci da popravi sopstveni položaj pred sudom, najpre obecao pomoc u hapšenju Radovana Karadžica i Ratka Mladica, ali buduci da tu nije mnogo ucinjeno, nekadašnji šef Miloševiceve tajne policije ucestvovao je u lociranju Milana Lukica. ***** Svjedoci užasa.... Muhamed Šehic, kome je Milan Lukic zapalio majku i brata, danas se prisjeca stravicnog svjedocenja svog djeda, jednog od rijetkih preživjelih. 14. juna 1992. godine, u napuštenoj bošnjackoj kuci u Pionirskoj ulici u Višegradu, Milan Lukic je, kako ga tereti haška optužnica, zakljucao i zapalio 65 žena, djece i staraca. Medu rijetkim preživjelima bio je i starac Hasib Kurspahic koji je o ovom zlocinu upoznao i haške istražitelje. Hasibov unuk Muhamed Šehic, kome je Milan Lukic zapalio majku i brata, danas se prisjeca stravicnog djedovog svjedocenja: „Jedno cijelo selo Kurspahica, iskljucivo muslimansko selo, i još par muslimana koji su se zadesili na cesti, sveukupno njih 65-ero, Milan Lukic je, u dogovoru sa Crvenim krstom opštine Višegrad, pozvao pod izgovorom da ce ih prebaciti na slobodnu teritoriju BiH, da bi im kasnije kazali kako se taj autobus pokvario, te da moraju spavati u napuštenim muslimanskim kucama. Oni su se rasporedili u cetiri - pet kuca, da bi negdje iza ponoci došao Lukic i rekao da svi moraju u jednu kucu radi njihove bezbijednosti.“ Onda je, nastupio teror. „Sve su se žene morale skinuti do gola, skinuto im zlato, prstenje, uzet novac, sve je Lukic pokupio. Izvedene su mlade žene pa silovane. Onda ih je sve zatvorio u jednu kucu i svojim rukama je zoljom pogodio tu kucu. Onda se ona zapalila. Pucali su. Moj brat je imao 12 godina. Zvao se Faruk Šehic. On je iskocio kroz prozor i neko ga je ubio. I nije izašao živ.“ Reputaciju hladnokrvnog ubice, Lukic je, kaže Muhamed Šehic, stekao nekoliko dana nakon što se iz Srbije vratio u rodni Višegrad. Vijest o hapšenju Milana Lukica, Muhamed Šehic je proslavio. Višegradski koljac je, veli, najzad uhapšen. Ubica Muhamedove majke i mladeg brata ce odgovarati. No, Šehic ocekuje i da ubice njegovog oca i dvadesetogodišnjeg brata, cija tijela još nisu pronadena, zadesi isto što i Milana Lukica. Pravda. Mehmed AGOVIC, Zoran PRERADOVIC, Dženana HALIMOVIC *** INVENTURA ZLA Na trpezi u Ševeningenu prošle sedmice se našao kupus koji je skuhala grupa zatvorenika na čelu sa bivšim jugoslovenskim predsjednikom Slobodanom Miloševićem. Jelo, spremano po Miloševićevom receptu, oduševilo je sve one koji su ga kušali, posebno Ljuba Boškovskog, bivšeg makedonskog ministra policije, bilježe skopski mediji. Šeki RADONČIĆ *** Konačno je uhvaćen čovek koga sam lovila godinama Nerma Jelacic *** Nikolić bio u Antinu Rijeka -- U vreme kad je Nikolić bio u selu, poslednja tri meseca 1991. i prva dva ili tri sledeće godine, počinjeni su najveci zločini. *** Moj komšija U sarajevskim medijima uveliko se špekuliše da ce se krug optužnica u srpskom entitetu zatvoriti kada haška tužiteljica objavi optužnice i protiv ratnih ministara Republike Srpske Momcila Mandica i Tome Kovaca, prenosio je Monitor u martu ove godine. Zoran RADULOVIC *** Zlocini u Suvoj Reci: Tajni Gresi Srpske Policije Deset srpskih policajaca moglo bi se vec ove nedelje naci iza resetaka zbog sumnje da su ubili vise od 50 clanova jedne porodice na Kosovu tokom NATO bombardovanja. | ||||||||||||||
