The Sarajevo Red Line

           Upon leaving the celebrations at the opening of the Sarajevo International Guitar Festival, Sara, Ross, and I made our way toward Titova Street, which is the main street through the city center.  We planned on catching a cab home from there, but discovered that the “Sarajevo Red Line” was being assembled and the street was closed.

            The Sarajevo Red Line consisted of 11,541 empty plastic red chairs, facing a stage just in front of a major city landmark, the eternal fire.  Each chair represented a victim of the siege of Sarajevo.  The rows of chairs stretched across the entire width of the street, and about 4 blocks long.  There were over 600 small chairs that represented the children that died.  On April 6^th, on the 20^th anniversary of the beginning of the siege, a concert was performed on the stage that faced all of the empty chairs.  Additionally, the names of the victims were projected on a large screen above the stage.  In the meantime, thousands of people walked and stood along the sidewalk in order to view the memorial, while some left flowers on the chairs in honor of friends and family members.

Set-up for The Red Line

April 6th, 2012, downtown Sarajevo

            

            After leaving a cheerful celebration with the guitar festival, it was quite sobering to see all of the red chairs.  When we saw that the street was closed, we realized that we would have to walk to the end of “the red line” to get to a place where we could hail a taxi.  That walk felt very, very long.

            There was a bit of controversy surrounding the Sarajevo Red Line.  First of all, as the chairs were being set up, it was noticed that they had been purchased from a Serbian company.  The media questioned whether those who were partially responsible for the siege (particularly Serbian nationalists who financially backed the violent aggression) were now profiting from the memorial.  Additionally, some questioned whether the memorial was an appropriate tribute to those who died, or whether it de-humanized the victims.  It seemed like the memorial was designed to booster international awareness about what happened here, more so than as an event to support those who survived the war, and who lost family and friends.

            Despite the controversy, I found the memorial to be quite moving.  To me, it made the scope of the deaths in Sarajevo during the war more tangible. Maybe because I am a performer, seeing empty chairs facing a stage has a special meaning.  I could easily picture men, women, and children sitting in those chairs.  But then the chairs just kept going and going…

            By the evening of April 6^th, there was quite a bit of coverage of The Red Line and the anniversary of the siege in the international press.  I couldn’t help but read about a dozen articles, and learned more about the international intervention (or lack thereof) as well as more about the divisive politics and ethnic quotas that are creating new problems in Bosnia.  However, what most disturbed me was reading the ignorant comments below some of the online articles.  I was surprised and disturbed to read comments from misinformed Serbian nationalists, who deny the violence against civilians that took place here and in Srebenica.  But I was revolted by comments from hateful and ignorant Americans, who know nothing about Islam, yet believe that any Muslim person is an enemy unworthy of basic human rights. 

So…what can I do?  Nothing can ever change the past, and I’m sure hatred and violence will, sadly, shape our future as well.  But I can try to avoid being ignorant or misinformed myself, by learning as much as I can about other cultures and religions, especially those whose values or beliefs conflict with my own.  And I can encourage others to do the same, to try to understand those who are different.  So, dear blog readers, I have a request: think of a political group, a religion, or a culture that conflicts with your own beliefs, and take at least a few minutes to learn more about it, or to find some common ground.  I know what I’m asking you to do may be cliché, or cheesy, or naïve, but I genuinely care about promoting open-mindedness… so why not try?