…And what is the truth? The truth is relative, it was different for everyone involved, some collapsed mentally, some physically. There were some people, like this guy who died of a heart attack 10 days after an armed battle, others went through nervous breakdowns, marriages were breaking apart, some people became so tough that… that… they wouldn’t blink no matter what happens, but others burst into tears for any reason.
ZINKA GANIKJ: Good evening.
NN: Good evening.
ZG: We are at my interviewee’s home and he’s about to tell us his life story from his own angle. I’d like to thank you above all, for… for agreeing on this, for your time, and I’d like to ask you how you fell, do you…?
NN: It’s ok, no problem, it’s good to spread the word about what was happening in 2001, that’s good.
ZG: Right. Tell me – let’s start from the beginning – can you tell how things were going for you before 2001?
NN: How were things going? I was young…
ZG: Before the war started?
NN: Yes. I was young, there was a certain tension in the air, with all that had been going on between ’91 and ’95 in Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia… After that, Gostivar followed, as if there was something in the air, as if something was about to happen. Then happened the raiding on the weapon warehouses in Albania, which had a lot to do with what happened next in Macedonia, because large amounts of weapons were smuggled, even though our security forces were claiming that it was under control, and it was obvious that large amounts of arms had been accumulated before the ’99 Kosovo crisis. In `99 there was some kind of a fake… (sighs) …fake peace, but it was obvious that something was about to happen, and there…
ZG: You could feel it?
NN: …it came a bit earlier than… than I expected, it happened earlier, but I could feel it, I could definitely feel it, it was well known, I could see something was on.
ZG: Do you think the minorities were being discriminated before 2001?
NN: They were, in employment, in education, then there were these implementations of quotas from other nationalities where people had to represent themselves to appear as they are from another nationality, offending… minorities with bad names – they were, yes.
ZG: Have you, as a Bosniak, ever felt… discriminated?
NN: Yes, I have.
ZG: By who?
NN: By both sides (smiles ironically). Macedonians were calling me “shiptar”, Albanians were calling me “kaur” or “Macedonian” or “chafir” (non-believer) etc., so yes, I felt discriminated in many ways.
ZG: That must have left some consequences, some bitterness?
NN: Yes, yes.
ZG: Could you spot the inter-ethnic tension before the war?
NN: Yes, I could. There was tension between the two largest ethnic groups, the Macedonian and the Albanian. It started to intensify right after the war in Bosnia, the events of ’97 in Gostivar, then the black shirt squads, blah blah blah, there were some minor conflicts, and all this was going on up until ’99 when suddenly things got more peaceful because of the tide of refugees from Kosovo, and that peace lasted until 2000, and in 2000 we could already smell gunpowder in the air, and then in 2001 it all happened as we know.
ZG: Did you think that that was supposed to happen, could you feel it was going to happen?
NN: Yes, I was guessing it would come to that, I could see that was going to happen because both sides… Like, one side is demanding for something, the other side is playing deaf, I mean, it was clear that the Albanians as a largest ethnic group should have a right to education on their mother tongue, but in my opinion, they didn’t have to go this far, they could have chosen some other radical means, but this? No!
ZG: Tell me about 2001. How did you go through it?
NN: 2001… very ugly, I was directly involved as a member of the defense forces of the Republic of Macedonia – very, very, very ugly.
ZG: When did you realize the war was on?
NN: When they came to my house in 3 in the morning and the police knocked on the door, asked for me and told me to report to the police station because I was bound with a military police duty, which my mother didn’t know exactly what it meant at the moment.
ZG: You obeyed?
NN: I had to, yes.
ZG: That same night?
NN: Yes, I left within 15 minutes, right away.
ZG: Did you have any previous connection to… I mean, were you connected to… As I know, you had been working in the police before that?
NN: I was involved during the Kosovo crisis of ’99, then I went through the standard training which was being organized 3 to 4 times a year by the police. I am registered as a military-police conscript, so it was my duty to… to answer that call.
ZG: Were you scared right then?
NN: Well, I did feel a certain fear because I didn’t know what was going to happen, I didn’t know if we were going to… go some place right away or – it wasn’t clear if… It was all vague, unclear. They weren’t even prepared, the police wasn’t prepared, nobody knew what to do with me, where to station me.
ZG: After you reported in, where did they take you?
NN: To the police station, that’s where we were supposed to wait, to be assigned with weapons and equipment, as the standard procedure goes, and then wait to be stationed somewhere, either to another police station, or some other workplace, because that’s what it was… It was a job for us.
ZG: So, where were you stationed?
NN: At a police station, at first at a police station, but under… let’s say, military… alert for engagement, with arms, under alert… with combat ammunition, in uniforms, on guard posts and check points throughout the city.
ZG: How was your life changed in 2001?
NN: You mean after 2001?
ZG: During… yes.
NN: It was all… It all happened so fast, but there were these moments that seemed like eternal, like… All of a sudden, I found myself in a situation where you have to consider every second, where you have to use your brain a lot, a situation where you either crouch or end up in your grave, you have to be very careful where you are going, how you react, you’re pressed from all sides, like – well, like in any war. Pressed from all sides, you have to doubt everything, expect everything, you can’t allow yourself to get lost, you can’t allow giving yourself to fear and stress.
ZG: Have you been sent to any of the places where…
NN: Yes!
ZG: Which places?
NN: (sighs) I took part in the events in Arachinovo in Skopje, then in Radusha in Kumanovo, that’s it. I was directly involved.
ZG: Right. Is there any moment you simply can’t forget, anything in particular that left a mark on you, that you would like to forget because it’s a bad experience… any particular moment?
NN: There’s couple of moments, like when my friend got shot dead by a sniper, or like when they brought the bodies of those fallen in Grupchin, or when a grenade exploded right next to me in Arachinovo, and one moment that left a big mark on me: Arachinovo at night, I’m sitting at my post and I hear some music coming from a distant direction. While people were partying in Skopje, in the park, in the clubs, people were dying over here, that day a comrade fell dead.
ZG: Any details about that?
NN: Details?
ZG: Was he a friend, a good friend? It must have been hard for you?
NN: Yes, definitely, you could say so, although we were at war, we were… we were policemen, we had the same authority as the regular police, we were… we were being stationed with the regular police, and so they would shoot at us, we would return fire, that’s how it goes, it’s a war, so there’s no room to blame any of the sides, a war is a war, you don’t blame the guy who holds the rifle, but the one who says the word, it was…
ZG: The one who gives the orders?
NN: Yes. It was all like a child’s game, I don’t know, I could never forget when they brought in the new weapons, some Bulgarian rifles falling apart in our hands, although allegedly newly bought, then these boxes of Chinese ammunition which… I think firecrackers explode better than those bullets, they would just end up 5 meters in front of our feet. The police unprepared, the high-ranking officers so incapable, that we from the army reserve could be… Not only we could be, but we were in command of military checkpoints where the worst was going on, while our superiors were fleeing the scene. What else was going on? (pause, then yells) Oh yes, the food! How absurd, they send you to the battlefield and they give you enormous bags full of food – I couldn’t get it – and while we were serving in the military we’d only get one can of food each, it was ridiculous, I found it ridiculous.
ZG: Something like a consolation prize? (smiles)
NN: No, I guess they wanted to make us feel like home… Funny really, how can a guy feel like home when he’s being under fire, that’s ridiculous.
ZG: Feeling like home is the last thing on your mind…
NN: Of course. I don’t remember when’s the last time my wife was shooting at me while serving the lunch (smiles ironically and points to his wife who is playing with their son nearby), I mean, really…
ZG: Right.
NN: Yes.
ZG: Tell me, why did you take part in the war?
NN: Because I was obliged to a military police duty, and in the same time, I felt that, as a citizen of the Republic of Macedonia, it’s somehow my duty to do that and it’s not in my nature to run away, I’m not a deserter.
ZG: Right. So you kind of did it because of… patriotic sentiments, right?
NN: You could say so.
ZG: How did the conflict affect your personality?
NN: I became wiser.
ZG: Yes?
NN: Yes, it made me wiser, you could say it’s both good and a bad thing, I don’t talk as much now. That’s it, there’s nothing else to be said (coughs).
ZG: Do you think the others changed?
NN: By the others you mean…
ZG: …the rest of the… people who…
NN: …who fought with me?
ZG: Yes.
NN: Yes. There were some cases with drastic change, some became hardcore nationalists, and some others got to see the truth. And what is the truth? The truth is relative, it was different for everyone involved, some collapsed mentally, some physically. There were some people, like this guy who died of a heart attack 10 days after an armed battle, others went through nervous breakdowns, marriages were breaking apart, some people became so tough that… that… they wouldn’t blink no matter what happens, but others burst into tears for any reason.
ZG: Right. Each with his own…
NN: Right.
ZG: It’s individual. Why do you think 2001 happened?
NN: Because we were stupid, we were definitely stupid.
ZG: We allowed for someone else to be… telling us…
NN: We allowed for others to tell us what to do. It has always been the case with Macedonia, and
always will be. This shouldn’t have happened, all it would have taken was for one of the sides to back off and everything would have been fine.
ZG: Which side do you think should have done that?
NN: In fact, I think both sides should have backed off, the first side should have lowered their demands and the other side should have increased their offer, they should have tried to find a compromise…
ZG: It takes two to dance, right?
NN: Right. They should have reached a compromise and avoid having all those victims, or when I think better, I guess there had to be some victims because the money has to go somewhere (pours himself some juice).
ZG: Tell me, how long were you…? […]
NN: 22 February 2001 to 26 December 2002.
ZG: Anything else from that time?
NN: That time? That time…
ZG: From that painful war.
NN: Hmmm. I’m glad that some of my younger colleagues, who joined in last, found comfort in me as an older colleague, as someone who has been to many places, who has been directly involved, who has… I’m glad that they saw in me… in me a man reliable enough, someone who can get by in any situation – they sought protection from me. I remember when they were taking us to Radusha in those yellow JSP[1] busses, we were on our way to the war zone, and this guy next to me – how old was he? 19 or 20 years old, he’s shaking with fear, takes out his vest and puts it against the window and I say to him: “What are you doing?” He says: “If they fire through the window, the vest will protect me.” I say: “The vest has to be attached to the body so that it can protect you, otherwise the bullet will go through.” And he started crying, so I switched places with him, I said: “Take my seat, I’ll seat next to the window.” “Thank you, thank you.” He started kissing me, I mean… interesting thing. It stayed with me. After that… bad things… After that I faced some misunderstanding, I faced…
ZG: By whom?
NN: By both sides, especially by the Albanians, I had to face humiliation: “You joined them, you fought for them, now look where you are, and look where I am!” and such.
ZG: Do you think the media reported well on the situation?
NN: No, definitely not, definitely not, when I turn on the TV…
ZG: You could hear…
NN: Yeah, yeah, yeah. The funniest thing was, for example, that recording from the burning house in Arachinovo, and they say on the news that Albanian terrorist groups set a Macedonian house on fire, when in fact it was us who bombed the house because we had information that it was being used as a weapon storage. It turned out it was empty, either way, it was attacked with mortars by the police, and the news says it was terrorists, I mean, how stupid. Why would they even set their own safe house on fire when they need it? The A1 TV was also biased in their reports – every time our soldiers would be ambushed, they would call the attack a terrorist attack, when in fact, it was war, the ambush is a legal military… military formation, where you catch your enemy unprepared, you can’t call that a terrorist attack, it’s not some suicide bomber who went to… a wedding and blew everybody up, it’s a militant group waiting prepared. It was the police’s mistake to send the military unprepared, in unsecured transport, it’s clear how… one should secure the soldiers during war. It was all surreal.
ZG: From this perspective, do you think you made the right call?
NN: From this perspective?
ZG: Yes.
NN: Yes.
ZG: From today’s point of view, after all the emotion have settled down?
NN: Yes, I made the right decision, but I’m certain that I would not do the same again.
ZG: You wouldn’t?
NN: I still claim that I made the right call and that I did the right thing, but I wouldn’t do it again.
ZG: Is it because you think you gave too much and you got nothing…?
NN: No, I didn’t give too much, I acted according to what the situation required. If someone is shooting at men, I can’t simply hide and wait for him to get me – I have to defend myself. The duties, the orders had to be followed.
ZG: Were you angry at anybody?
NN: (lights up a cigarette) Anger is in vain. I was angry in the beginning, but… no longer.
ZG: Who were you angry at?
HH: Who was I angry at… Who was I angry at?! At… those who signed the Ohrid framework agreement, because they’re the ones who let this happen.
ZG: Why, what…
NN: It’s a game.
ZG: You don’t think that should have happened?
NN: It shouldn’t have happened, they shouldn’t have allowed that, they knew from the start that the Macedonian police would lose. It was… well known that was going to happen, and they were still playing their games. Whether… it was for the money, or something else, I can’t tell, I’m not the one to tell, but that shouldn’t have happened, it’s them I’m angry at, because of how it all ended.
ZG: …at those in charge […], those who play with… who just make the orders.
NN: Yes.
ZG: Tell me, when was it hardest for you?
NN: When was it hardest… I had the hardest time when I was listening to the music coming from the city.
ZG: Yes?
NN: Yes.
ZG: You felt…
NN: I’m sitting in Arachinovo in the dark, бележам пикети and I hear this music coming from the center of Skopje, and I think of how when I go to the city tomorrow, when they see us in a uniform at the park, they’ll be all: “Good job, guys, show them how it’s done, kick their asses!” while they’re partying, drinking beer, enjoy themselves, and we’re the ones who’re getting killed. Then, and also when I was leaving home at night, when I would leave her alone (points at his wife), yes, and when I had to hide from my mother that I was going to the battlefield, when I lied to her that we would be stationed to a distant checkpoint, how I was burnt from the sun, we were on the sun all day long, under open fire all the time.
ZG: …all the time?
NN: All the time. (lights up a cigarette)
ZG: What do you think should have been done differently?
NN: About the war?
ZG: Yes.
NN: It should have ended much much sooner.
ZG: It took big dimensions, right?
NN: It spread too far. When it started in Tanushevci on 28 February, it should have ended there, the police shouldn’t have allowed for it to spread this way. And the other side… Well, it shouldn’t have happened at all, no, no human sacrifice is… One man is a sacrifice, it’s sad, whoever he is.
ZG: And the innocents…
NN: Innocent people died, innocent people. People from both sides who went to war out of duty or out of patriotic sentiments, they went and died. They too had families.
ZG: Tell me, are you afraid of something and what are you afraid of most?
NN: Right now?
ZG: Yes.
NN: Right now I don’t fear for myself, I fear for my family, for the future of my family.
ZG: We’ll… get to that later. Tell me, who did you trust in those moments, during the war?
NN: Only, only myself.
ZG: While you were at war…
NN: Only, only myself.
ZG: …did you have anyone for whom you could say: “this one I can count as a friend”?
NN: In those moments?
ZG: Yes.
NN: No. in those moments I only trusted… in… I only trusted myself. Only myself.
ZG: Why? When was it that you lost your trust in people…
NN: Trust in people? There was this time when we were…
ZG: …in humanity?
NN: …at a checkpoint, two days after the events in Radusha, where… we had to back off, because there was a lot of firing, we barely saved our heads, and now we’re at the checkpoint and this cop is asking me…
ZG: A colleague?
NN: A colleague, a comrade is asking me: “Excuse me, what are you?” I told him I was Bosniak and he goes: “You’re circumcised, what the fuck are you doing here?” Since then, I had to fight on my own.
ZG: What did you say to him?
NN: Nothing. I taught him a lesson, I put a knife under his throat and said: “When I, the Bosniak, was at the battlefield, you were down at the station drinking coffee, now you’re standing here at a safe checkpoint, and you find it appropriate to sell nationalistic shit to me? You better shut up.” He apologized and I haven’t seen him since, I know he left the station after he finished that shift and I never saw him again.
ZG: Right. Now tell me about after 2001, after those bad times.
NN: After 2001?
ZG: Now after all that, do you trust…?
NN: The institutions, the police and all that? No! Definitely not. Definitely not.
ZG: You gave up on everything?
NN: I gave up on everything, I mean, I didn’t give up, I just don’t trust the police anymore. I can’t, I simply can’t trust… I have more faith in a security agency that in the police, I really do, and even less in the army, watching today’s cops and soldiers – except for the special forces – that’s not how a cop should be, a cop shouldn’t be someone who uses his hand watch strap as a belt, who’s a meter and a half tall, that’s no cop.
ZG: Tell me, what is it that you gained and lost during the war?
NN: I lost nothing.
ZG: Lucky…
NN: Sorry?
ZG: Luckily for you.
NN: Yes, luckily for me and for my wife, we didn’t lose anything, and what I gained is experience.
ZG: Right.
NN: A huge experience, bad one too, but every lesson had to be paid, whether with money, whether with nerves, or with memories…
ZG: What’s your view on coexistence now?
NN: Coexistence?
ZG: Yes.
NN: There can be coexistence in Macedonia. But it’s not happening because it’s not good for those in power. And it could be, I still think it could be.
ZG: So, you think a permanent peace could be secured?
NN: Yes, definitely. A permanent peace, yes. You cannot have a respect for yourself if you don’t respect the others.
ZG: Is there something about the future that scares you?
NN: The future of my child.
ZG: Right.
NN: I fear for what is going to happen to him, I believe in him, even though he’s still so young, but whether I will be in a position to give him all he needs is what bothers me.
ZG: A nice and peaceful life?
NN: A nice and peaceful life, that’s not in my hands, I will do my best to protect him and my family, as much as I can.
ZG: Right. Do you think 2001 could happen all over?
NN: Many would answer: “I pray God there’s a second half of the game!” when in fact they’re afraid that that might come. I wouldn’t want that, I wouldn’t.
ZG: A conscientious citizen wouldn’t want that, right?
NN: I don’t want for that to happen again. There’s nothing good about war.
ZG: Right.
NN: Some could see some use in it, those who’ll find a way to make money out of selling military food reserves […] that’s ok for them, war is good for them, but those are just a few people who will manage to secure a future for their children in Switzerland, England, France, while us mortals will stay in the dirt and play seasonal patriots while they need us, and then – goodbye to us.
ZG: Could you forgive, do you think it could be forgiven?
NN: I have nothing to forgive! Nothing. I’ll say it again: war is war. I’m sorry for all the innocent victims, for the civilians, I’m really really sorry, I mean… I can’t find words to explain how sorry I am. And as for the dead soldiers and policemen – that’s how it goes in a war. In war, we have a duty to sacrifice our lives. Macedonians and Albanians should forgive each others, but it’ll take generations for all this to pass, for… us to come to a position to be able to forgive, because many families lost everything.
ZG: Is there anything you’d like to share, anything I haven’t asked you? Anything left unsaid?
NN: Mhm. Since I’m from a different ethnicity, a minority in Macedonia, a Bosniak, I’d like to say that from all the invitations sent to those signed up as an army reserve, a very small percentage from us Bosniaks – let’s say 1 or 2 percent – declined the invitations, while the rest of us went to war – we were loyal citizens to this country, and yet not one of us managed to stay employed in the police. I was promised a job, I was even promised a position: “Good job, you helped us a lot, you helped us so much, way to go! You saved the lives of many of your colleagues. You took part in some nasty actions…” In the end, 26 December 2006, they told me to come to the station. I went to the station and they said: “We don’t need you anymore”.
ZG: Those were the exact words?
NN: Yes. The exact words: “We don’t need you, we don’t need you anymore, if we do, we’ll call you, now leave your weapon downstairs.” And when I went to the Ministry of internal affairs – was it at the barrack 8? – one of the superiors told me… I wouldn’t like to mention his name, but I’ll tell you he was a colonel. When I asked him: “Why is this happening, what about what you promised me – a job?”, he answered, in… in simple words: “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re the wrong ethnicity.”
ZG: Is that what he said?
NN: Those were the exact words, and that I cannot forgive, because… that’s… that’s something…
ZG: You managed to forget everything, but that…
NN: I’ll forget anything, but that I cannot forget.
ZG: All the sacrifice and all your good deeds…
NN: Yes… And in the end – I’m the wrong ethnicity. It’s fine, let them have it.
ZG: I’d like to thank you for your time and to wish you well.
NN: Ok, thank you. I pray God there won’t be need for other interviews like this one, I hope we won’t have to meet and talk about this kind of things ever again.
ZG: Only for good things…
NN: Only for good things.
ZG: Right. Goodbye, all the best!
NN: All the best!
[1] Skopje’s Public transport