Posted on 05/19/2004 7:19:24 PM PDT by Destro
Bosnia - Mujahedeen Adventure in Bosnia
by Charlene Cowling, photos by Darko Zeljkovic 05.19.04
My heart is pumping and I can feel the anxiety rolling around in my gut, oily and slick. It creeps up in to the back of my throat and I have to use everything in my power to shove it back down to a more manageable level. It percolates there, but, at least I can finally force myself to think.
We approach the Mujahedeen (Muslim extremists) on foot, having trashed our initial plan of shooting images from the nearby consecrated grounds of the Serbian Church. This, our original vantage point, offered security, no doubt, but relatively useless images.
"I think we have to go down there," I say to my partner. He gives me a long stare but nods in agreement.
"How are we going to do this?" he asks, and I can hear the tension in his voice.
"We are going to go right up to them and we are going to choose the least scary person and we are going to start talking," brave words from me since I don't speak a word of Serbian and my partner is fluent. I guess the pressure is on him, by default.
"Okay" he agrees, "but you do the talking". An hour previously, we had arrived in our little car, affectionately dubbed "the unsinkable Molly," to the little village of Bocinja in central Bosnia. We had followed the Bosna River, still swollen and murky from week long rains and flooding. As we approached the little village surrounded by towns called "Jealousy" and "Unloved."
I start to feel the tension build. One little village, in particular, Field of Crosses, tugged at my heart. Evidence of the bullet holes that tore through the village were scattered everywhere. I closed my eyes and imagined the carnage that must have occurred here during the recent civil war that tore the country to pieces.
We approach Bocinja. On our right, just across the river, is a Catholic Croatian Church. Directly across from it lies a Muslim Mosque and across a field, perched on a rolling hill, lies the Serbian Church—all within spitting distance of each other. Literally. Ethnic tensions run high in this little village. We are stopped by the local police who, upon hearing our intentions to photograph the local Mujahedeen, take my Serbian born partner's name, his mother's name, his father's name and his families' address.
"Just in case anything happens to you," they say. The anxiety dances in my belly.
We continue our walk toward the mosque. There is absolutely nothing that defines this unfinished, three story building as a mosque, to me. At least, not until I raise my eyes to the roof and see the black flag of Islam proudly waving and snapping in the wind. Through a series of gestures and whispers we calculate our plan of approach. We've been working closely together for the past six months and I feel as though I can read his mind. It mirrors what is happening in mine and I can feel the crescendo of anxiety building again. I tear myself out of his mind space.
I walk up, to what appears to be, a local merchant, selling his wares through the back of his white mini van and finger the materials with appreciation and attempt to make eye contact. Silly me. I have just entered a strict Muslim community. They don't make eye contact with women. Thankfully, my partner speaks up. I have absolutely no idea what he is saying but I listen with rapt attention to the tones of the voices around me trying to gauge our safety. I can hear my partner stepping up the verbal dance of persuasion with his increasingly rapid fire responses. He turns to me and says, "He wants to see our credentials."
A few moments later the merchant, who has identified himself to us as a former lieutenant in the Muslim Foreign Fighters Brigade, surprisingly gives us permission to take a few frames.
We begin weaving around taking our pics. Several men automatically shield their faces to avoid photos. From my right a bearded man leans in to me and says menacingly, "No pictures, or I'll break your fucking camera over your head." Perfect English. I duck my head in obeisance and lift my palms to indicate that I will comply.
I value my head. And my camera.
"Maybe we could find her some nice Mujahedeen husband," someone calls out from the crowd. My partner, thinking this was a nice ice breaker translated this to me with a smile. The Mujahedeen smiled too. I definitely didn't smile and threw back, "Tell them that I am already married." As he translated back, the mood changed abruptly. The jokes stopped and one man stepped forward to prevent another from following me. Then a voice called out, "If you were my wife, I wouldn't let you come alone to Bosnia." That's an understatement. They don't allow their wives to go anywhere alone, period. We sigh in relief as the men enter the mosque and we are left alone in the parking lot. I feel limp, energized, excited, exhausted all at once. We stroll back to our indomitable Molly and slip in to her inner sanctum. Safe, at last.
bump
Bump for truth.
AQ ping
bump
Black flag = Islamic pirate flag
The Black Flag - The flag of death - the flag of the beast from the bottomless pit.
The old time anarchists also loved to wave black flags. Islamikazis = anarchists.
Boys, you think I should ride my bike through this town? Seriously, I may take a lunch stop at the kafana.
And we helped to shove this Trojan Horse loaded with throat-slitting islamofascists right into Europe.
Was this article even written in Bosnia? And written so poorly?
Yup, and reads fine to me.
Where is the evidence that the writer of this article was even in Bosnia? Along with the poor writing, a lack of credibility pervades from the first sentence to the last.
Email your thoughts to the editor:
general@communitypress-online.com
By Gregory Piatt, Stars and Stripes
Stripes Sunday magazine, April 14, 2002
"U.S and other international forces are most at risk in Bosnia, where Islamic extremists from outside the region played an important role in the ethnic conflicts of the 1990s," Tenet said in his March 19 testimony. "There is considerable sympathy for international Islamic causes among the Muslim community in Bosnia."
Now, many of the Mujahedeen and weapons bought and shipped by Third World Relief Agency remain in the Balkans. Peacekeepers in Bosnia and Kosovo are faced with trying to locate these weapons and apprehend the fighters.
Many of those weapons turned up in Kosovo in the late 1990s and during last year’s Albanian insurgency in Macedonia, Kosovo peacekeeping force officials have said.
During his Senate testimony in March, Tenet said the Mujahedeen who remain in Bosnia, aided by weak border controls, large amounts of weapons and organized crime in the Balkans, pose an "ongoing threat to U.S. forces there," as well as to the stability of the area.
Mujahedeen used to live in this house in the village of Bocinja. Those who took over homes illegally were evicted from the Serb village, but some of their Bosnian followers still reside in several houses they bought from the pre-war Serb residents. The house with loudspeakers now serves as the village mosque.
The Mujahideen fought for the Bosnian army - note the black flag if Islam.
Bump back. George Washington and Buchanan are right. End entanglements - Defend America not the world.
Clinton will be remembered as a traitor, not only to the USA, but to right order worldwide.
But don't look forward to any hearings on the matter.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.
