War Reporter Reveals How World Learned of Srebrenica: 'At First, Even I Didn't Believe It'
Translated from Serbian, summarized and contextualized by DistantNews.
At a glance
- A war reporter recounted how the world learned about the Srebrenica massacre through a survivor's testimony.
- Initial disbelief and rigorous legal verification preceded the story's global dissemination.
- The case pioneered DNA identification standards for victims of mass atrocities.
AP war reporter Aida ฤerkez shared how the world came to know about the Srebrenica massacre, detailing the arduous process that led to a survivor's testimony reaching global headlines on October 5, 1995. Her account also explains how Bosnia and Herzegovina became the birthplace of global DNA identification standards for victims.
At the time, there were only four or five satellite phones, and you needed five hours to position the satellite to make a call. When all this happened with Srebrenica, nobody believed at first that these people were systematically killed. From today's perspective, it sounds strange, but back then, it was considered classic ethnic cleansing, to expel people and give them five minutes to leave with a plastic bag. Systematic shootings were unknown. Everyone believed those men were imprisoned somewhere in the mines of Aranฤelovcu
In July 1995, as the international community speculated about the fate of thousands of men from Srebrenica, ฤerkez was dispatched to Tuzla by AP to find survivors. "At the time, there were only four or five satellite phones, and you needed five hours to position the satellite to make a call," she recalled. "When all this happened with Srebrenica, nobody believed at first that these people were systematically killed. From today's perspective, it sounds strange, but back then, it was considered classic ethnic cleansing, to expel people and give them five minutes to leave with a plastic bag. Systematic shootings were unknown. Everyone believed those men were imprisoned somewhere in the mines of Aranฤelovac."
After a difficult search, ฤerkez located a key witness, a survivor of the executions who later became a protected witness for the Hague Tribunal. The scale of the horror he described initially made ฤerkez doubt her own material. "I recorded eight hours of interviews with him outside Tuzla. When I returned, I called the agency and said, 'I have the material, but I don't believe it. I think this man is so traumatized that he's telling me stories from World War II.' My editors in Vienna and New York were compelled to meticulously read the transcript I faxed," she explained. "They sent me back from Sarajevo to Tuzla six or seven times, which meant a two-day journey each way under shelling, to answer hundreds of questions they asked, not my editors, but AP's agency lawyers."
I recorded eight hours of interviews with him outside Tuzla. When I returned, I called the agency and said, 'I have the material, but I don't believe it. I think this man is so traumatized that he's telling me stories from World War II.' My editors in Vienna and New York were compelled to meticulously read the transcript I faxed. They sent me back from Sarajevo to Tuzla six or seven times, which meant a two-day journey each way under shelling, to answer hundreds of questions they asked, not my editors, but AP's agency lawyers.
The lawyers insisted on the minutest details, from military markings on trucks to precise descriptions of the rooms where prisoners were held. A pivotal moment that validated the testimony involved the dimensions of a school gymnasium where victims were confined before their execution. "The witness claimed that exactly 278 people were in the hall. The lawyers found this suspicious and asked how he could know if no one had counted them. I went back to him, and he explained it mathematically: four people fit in one square meter, one sitting, one on his lap, and two standing embracing because there was no room. When you multiply the hall's square footage, you get that number. The lawyers' final question, which they thought would break the entire story, was how he knew the exact dimensions of the hall in meters. I returned and asked him, and he gave the crucial answer that broke the entire story of the massacre. He said, 'I am a bricklayer.' A bricklayer is considered an expert in court. Thus, that story, after rigorous legal verification, became the foundation for establishing the global standard for DNA identification of victims."
The witness claimed that exactly 278 people were in the hall. The lawyers found this suspicious and asked how he could know if no one had counted them. I went back to him, and he explained it mathematically: four people fit in one square meter, one sitting, one on his lap, and two standing embracing because there was no room. When you multiply the hall's square footage, you get that number. The lawyers' final question, which they thought would break the entire story, was how he knew the exact dimensions of the hall in meters. I returned and asked him, and he gave the crucial answer that broke the entire story of the massacre. He said, 'I am a bricklayer.' A bricklayer is considered an expert in court.
Originally published by N1 Serbia in Serbian. Translated, summarized, and contextualized by our editorial team with added local perspective. Read our editorial standards.