Scorpions Srebrenica Trial, June

BoingBoing

June 19, 2006

The War Sports

I always knew my Mom didn’t like the way I dressed, and the Special Court for War Crimes in Belgrade has my late Mom's taste in clothing. For all these months, the policeman at the door has taken charge of our manners, us, the special small crowd of women related to criminals and victims. He scolds us for chewing gum, sniffling aloud in grief, whatever...

Now he stops me: my summer T-shirt is indecent. The shirt's neck
is too large and it hangs loose. Sandals are certainly not allowed in court, but he tolerates my shoes. The T-shirt's sleeves are a proper length, but... I am trying to convince him that I won't suddenly expose my shoulder in the midst of the trial proceedings, but he doesn't trust my assurances.

At that point, the wife of a Scorpion volunteers to help me. Her skirt is shorter than mine, but she produces a handy pin and and fastens the neck of my shirt. The Scorpion wife and the guard exchange triumphant smiles. I say: next time I will bring a burka ... Rules are rules, he does not understand my remark... I have no innate problem with obeying rules, but who is making them, and why?

In this June Session, minor Scorpions are testifying, with a lot of venom and self possession. This one today seems to have known for years that his group committed executions; he even told that years ago to Natasa Kandic, the representative of the six murdered Muslim civilians. He might have spoken much earlier, but he has two children, so...

Today he doesn't speak of murders, movies or his children,
but gives a passionate speech on how the press has abused the reputations of the patriotic Scorpions, who carried out gallant war
enterprises for a state which no longer exists. There was no difference between paramilitary and military groups, he claims. We were all honorable citizens fighting for Serbia. During the break, he gets congratulations from his pals and his lawyers for his hard position of utter denial.

This latest witness in particular was a Serb from Croatia, who after
a year of battling the Croatian regular army, had to flee to
Serbia. He joined the Scorpions as soon as he heard their intention to re-invade and fight the Others. Our witness was twenty at the time. He was a trained sportsman, and he ended up training the paramilitary troops. He has the elegant body of an athlete, and as he utters his denials, nervous tics break out all over him: his nose tickles, his arms
itches, he scratches himself and twitches as if bitten by swarms of mosquitos. During other less stressful moments, he is extremely calm and to the point.

His position is that he knew nothing of bad things, only of glorious
efforts. His personal ethic was not to die for a state, but to try hard to save the lives of others. That's his interpretation of the Geneva convention.

When asked how much money he needs for his travel expenses to
testify in court, he declares, rather like John F. Kennedy: We give to the country, we don't ask from the country. He tells the court to give his expense money to an orphanage.

Another witness, the Bad Guy Who Became Good by admitting
that he executed underage war prisoners, has, he says, developed health problems after so much testimony. He laments at great length about toothaches after brushing his teeth, with many details, asking for possible cures and the help of specific dentists... I look at the audience, full of toothless people, war survivors who cannot afford dentists at all... I also think of those breathless victims, boys who cannot even afford a grave...and I wonder, who gave these guys such lines? Was it their rich lawyers? Their demanding wives? Was it sympathy for the devil?

The wife of the Bad Guy Who Became Good was the woman
helped me with the pin and my indecency. She behaves like
a hostess in this courtroom. She moves around, she talks with the guards, she tells us the timetable and rules during the sessions. How did she learn all these rules and roles?

Our witness is proud of his glamorous group,whose brave commander who never said "Attack" but only"Follow me". He has few names to offer, though he still knows the faces of his comrades. He is even better are remembering the relationships that united them: the men were in-laws... Their women put them together, so I guess that' s why their women behave as thehostesses in this cavalcade of crime.

Petrol was a major source of income for the Croatian-Serb mini-state that exists no more, so the Scorpions protected oil fields. Just a few days ago, a Croatian Serb "state" suddenly appeared on the Internet as a purported government-in-exile. This unrecognized virtual figment of a state is trying to sell Internet gambling licenses to anyone who websurfs by. I wonder if our witness is in on this new racket, too...

Even after the Scorpion militia split after the war, the members never stopped congregating. By this time, they were a Cosa-Nostra style clan, loyal to their family, and when Kosovo happened in 1999, the Scorpions swiftly reassembled. The sportsman volunteered again to play his patriot-games. The doings then will be the substance of the next trial which will take place in this special court for war crimes: a trial concerning the mass graves in Kosovo. That's when we will see our witness again, wondering what more he can bring to the table of denial.

I was never a narcissist, he declares to us. I never went there to show off in front of a video camera. I always took my place in the front-lines, I was just a common soldier of the common wars... The sportsman does not make me laugh, does not make me cry, does not make me angry. He makes me at ease with myself, just as he is at ease with himself, because his normality is uncanny, just like mine. His home-made militia uniform, my too-loose T-shirt, they are both suspicious.