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What It’s Like to Chill Out With
Whom the Rest of the World Considers As The Most Ruthless Men: Ratko
Mladic, Goran Hadzic and Radovan Karadzic (+) Confessions of a Female
War Crimes Investigator
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What
It’s Like to Chill Out With Whom the World Considers the
Most Ruthless Men : Ratko Mladic, Goran Hadzic and Radovan Karadzic
Confessions of a Female War Crimes Investigator
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Confessions of a Female War Crimes Investigator
    
Retrospectively, it was all so simple, natural and matter of fact being
on a boat restaurant in Belgrade, sitting with, laughing, drinking a
two hundred bottle of wine and chatting about war and peace while Ratko
Mladic held my hand. Mladic, a man considered the world’s most
ruthless war criminal since Adolf Hitler, still at large and currently
having a five million dollar bounty on his head for genocide by the
international community. Yet there I was with my two best friends at
the time, a former Serbian diplomat, his wife, and Ratko Mladic just
chilling. There was no security, nothing you’d ordinarily expect in
such circumstances. Referring to himself merely as, Sharko; this is
the story of it all came about.
It all began as former United States President Bill Clinton spearheaded
NATO’s war against Serbia, Montenegro and Slobodan Milosevic (March
1999). Thirty-five years old, conducting graduate study work at the
New School for Social Research in New York City in political science,
I planned graduating spring 1999 with an area study emphasis in
international law and human rights. I was naïve then, still believing
strongly in democratic liberal concepts such as freedom of academic
thought. Hence, I never anticipated my political views would impede
either my graduation or completing my master’s thesis work on whether
NATO member states committed gross violations of customarily accepted
international criminal law in launching military aggression against
Serbia and Montenegro owing to not acquiring United Nations Security
Counsel approval prior.
Only
having to complete two more classes to graduate, I always thought my
future in political sciences as wide open with innumerous
possibilities; unfortunately this proved untrue. Plotke told me in no
uncertain terms that I was not the type of person the New School wanted
walking around with a degree stating the New School’s prestigious name
on it.
Ironically, the New School was an institution I
attended only owing to its’ placing great pride and emphasis on
allowing students complete academic freedom of thought without
dictating what is and what is not politically correct to discuss. Yet
surprisingly, dismissal from the program and blow to my graduate work
should not been completely unexpected since the semester immediately
prior, the school refused allowing me to conduct my graduate thesis
work on the subject of whether the NATO and Bill Clinton committed war
crimes against the former Yugoslavia during the Kosovo war (1999) and
internally suggested I write about infringement of Muslim human rights
in France.
I suppose with the likes of Hillary Clinton
and Tony Blair hanging about the fourth floor of the school at the
renown World Policy Institute in 1999, I should have expected the
university would not take kindly to student‘s speaking out critically
against Bill Clinton and the Kosovo war (1999) he went down in history
for advocating. Then again, in 1999 I still believed in the school’s
core ideals of academic freedom, especially since I was paying no less
than one thousand United States dollars a credit to attend. My civil
rights lawsuit against the college is another story in and of itself
not deserving extended amounts of space here, except what I already
mentioned.
Dismissal from graduate school left me in a
complete state of scholarly anomie seeking empathy and solace from my
few friends and confidants at the time including many diplomats I
studied with at the New School for several years. The list included
but was not limited to ambassadors from Iran, Oman and a newly
appointed First Secretary of the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations
in New York, Darko Trifunovic.
Riddled with uncertainty about my future
scholarly status, I immediately applied for graduate study at Farleigh
Dickinson University in New Jersey where I studied an additional two
years before encountering similar problems with the graduate school
faculty there. Ironically it was only FDU professors whom formerly
studied themselves at the New School still in touch with the faculty
there, who were later responsible for my having to leave the graduate
program at FDU in early 2002.
Between the time of my
dismissal from the New School and my dismissal from FDU in the fall
(2002), I stayed in touch with many scholars and other politically
active persons sharing similar anti-war views as myself regarding
NATO’s 1999 Kosovo war including: Professor Barry Lituchy (NYC), Ramsey
Clark’s people at the International Action Center, and a couple of new
acquaintances I’ve chanced meet online in Serbian political activist
forums.
Another event in my life occurring in Manhattan
in late spring (1999) was chance meeting Nikola Sainovic; Slobodan
Milosevic’s former Deputy Serbian Prime Minister. It just so happened I
was in the city attending Ramsey Clark’s anti-NATO lectures immediately
after NATO’s bombing campaign against the former Yugolsavia began. I
was walking up to the main lecture building and paused at the door
momentarily to examine how to enter and where to go when Nikola walked
up for me , surprising me from behind, he said “hello, are you here for
the lecture also“? I replied “yes.” I was shy, but Nikola kept the
conversation going as we walked into the building together discussing
the horrendous actions the NATO was currently undertaking against his
country in Serbia. Although I did not know then who exactly he was, he
was handsome, educated and he wore a very sharp brown suit, tie and
wore glasses. His identity is unmistakable to me now viewing the photos
of him sitting in the Hague currently awaiting his own trial for
complicity in war crimes. During the lecture intermission he again
came over to speak with me and asked me my telephone number stating
he’d like to get together and talk sometime with me while he was in
town; I acceded.
He offered to drive me up to the spot in his fancy brown Jaguar. I had
never really been in a Jaguar before and it drove really smooth.
Nikola and I spent several hours just chatting about Serbia and the
illegal NATO actions undertaken against his country and when we
commenced, he drove me back to my car waiting by the restaurant and we
decided we would meet again for lunch in about a week; he would give me
call soon.
I was attending Montclair State University for
one semester that summer so when Nikola call me in about a week for
lunch I recommended we meet at about 4pm at the 6 Brothers Diner on
Route 46 by the university. Nikola never made any unwanted advances
towards me and we just like to chat about war and peace. He told me,
‘Jill, I like to come talk with you because I can trust you. I can let
down my hair so to speak with you and not worry about you wire tapping
me or stabbing me in the back.” I thanked him for his compliment and
company. He told me his daughter lived in Tarrytown New York and when
we parted that day, he told me this is where he was headed. He gave me
his business card bearing his name, Nikola Sainovic. I forget the
business it listed, it might have just said Prime Minister but I think
it said something else politically related but I can’t remember now. I
took it and thanked him. Whomever I did meet, they also gave me photos
and showed me a brief portfolio of their news ideas in the space saving
architecture and additionally gave me some photos of their work and a
business card for what I remember as a German PASSOS company. It had
to be be Nikola. We actually had a great chat about what I thought
about his new architectural ideas. I loved them telling Nikola I
believed he would be extremely successful in his new endeavors. I think
we may have had lunch one additional time and then I never heard from
him again.
Darko arrived first, his very beautiful wife,
Bojana, arrived as expected about one month later after he was
settled. Darko greatly impressed me at the time. Being a former
political advisor to the to the former female President of the Republic
of Srpska in Bosnia, he had a degree in international law, diplomatic
immunity, was a writer, handsome, was extremely brilliant and fun to
just hang-out with and work. The three of us became extremely close
friends and confidants.
I even became voted in as the
executive director of the Law Projects Center Yugoslavia in New York .
The Law Projects Center was a United Nations accredited NGO and
offshoot of the Yugoslav Coalition to Establish and international
criminal court. Darko and some political people originally founded the
organization in Belgrade Serbia prior his arrival in New York City in
diplomatic capacity.
I worked fervently legally registering the organization in New Jersey
as a legally filed non-profit successfully. The Law Projects
Center and its activities demanded Darko, his wife and I often stayed
the night over each others’ apartments often; many times working days
at a time with very little sleep. From winter (1999) until fall
(2002), Darko, his wife and I worked daily at the Bosnian Mission to
the United Nations in New York City co-authoring two books: 1) The
Bosnian Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism and; 2) The Srebrenica Massacre.
As a young student of war and peace in the former Yugoslavia, I was in
scholarly heaven accessing the United Nations to work with Darko
daily. This enabled my meeting many of the most fascinating people in
the world. I vividly remember Senator Bill Richardson at the time
giving nightly press interviews on television about meeting with OPEC
members states, “setting them straight about lowering oil prices in
2000.” Yet when I’d chit-chat with the Iranian ambassador in the city
before class asking him about it he would say to me something to the
effect as,” We at OPEC are so angry about former colonialism by
England and America, OPEC will continually attempt bringing both the
United States and England to their financial knees on energy
issues…And by the way Jill, Russia does not in any manner intend to
halt weapon sales to Iran.”
In fact Amir and I, notwithstanding our theological differences, got
alone well. We’d often sit together before class acceding on a great
many matters. In particular I remember us sitting one night and
looking me square in the eye stating, “You know Jill, I will never
believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.” I replied, “And I Amir
will never convert to Islam.” Now that we got that out of the way, we
both smiled at one another getting down to discussing real issues.
The Bosnian mission to the United Nations in New York City in 2001 was
an extremely interesting place. Reflecting the rotating ethnic
presidency existing in Bosnia unto present, Mission employees were
comprised of people of completely bipolar ethnic, theological and
politically ideological viewpoints.
The Head Ambassador
of the Mission post 9-11 was then combating rumors of his soon becoming
persona non grata in the United States for allegedly giving Osama Bin
Laden a visa to travel through Bosnia illegally when previously
stationed in Italy in 1993. There were also rumors he confessed to the
United States Department of State of running international arms trades
in connection with Al-Qaeda.
Darko
Trifunovic confided in me that Al Qaeda Algerian militant Abu Mali,
worked in the Bosnian mission to the UN in Manhattan 2001-2002 after
the war under a Bosnian name, Safet Catovic. Darko Trifunovic and I
worked together at the Bosnian Mission to the United Nations in NYC in
2001-2002 together and I, Jill Starr,l verify I used to work on Mali's
computer at the Mission because it always was getting fouled up with
computer viruses at his request.
The number two man at the Bosnian mission, the First Ambassador was
Serbian, Orthodox Christian and a doctor of medicine by university
degree. The First Secretary of the Mission was my friend Darko, the
Consulate department was headed by an ethnic Muslim lady from Bosnia,
and there was an ethnic Croatian woman floating around with other
various diplomats being of Roman Catholic Croatian descent.
My time at the Mission was primarily spent fixing Darko’s laptop
computer which became daily infected with computer viruses he
continually claimed emanated from other employees at the Mission who
were allegedly trying to sabotage him because of his ethnic Serbian
background. I vividly recall the constant bickering between all the
mission employees; always accusing each other of committing war crimes
and giving each other computer viruses making it virtually impossible
for any of them to get along. The Croatian diplomat usually stayed to
herself with her office door shut while the others present usually just
listened to Led Zeppelin rock music on their personal CD-ROM players.
They told me repeatedly they had nothing else to do with their time at
the United Nations beyond an occasional meeting except for listening
to music and playing computer games.
Sad and ironic was
the few things I noticed all the Bosnian mission employees agreeing
upon was their undying love for the rock band, Led Zeppelin.
A year had come and gone while I totally immersed myself into political
inquiry as to just who was guilty of committing war crimes in the
former Yugoslavia. My favorite subjects of inquiry included:
NATO, Kosovo & Metohia, Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia and persons of
interest such as Mladic and Hacim Thaci (Albanian Leader of the Kosovo
Liberation Army). It was not enough for my merely taking in nightly
news reports from CNN and other mainstream American media; to conduct
an investigation for inquiry of social fact, I needed to go to Serbia
and investigate for myself.
Several seasons went by and now it was spring 2001. Darko and his wife
Bojana had time off which they spent visiting friends and family in
Serbia for about two weeks. Because of this Darko was unable to
function in full diplomatic capacity. In spring 2001 there was a
preparatory commission meeting of plenipotentiaries to establish an
international criminal court at the United Nations in New York City.
Topics of the meeting included but were not limited to defining
interstate acts of aggression, court financing etc.. Darko asked me if
I would sit in for him at the meeting taking as many notes possible
owing to the Law Projects Center possessing United Nations
accreditation as a NGO (non governmental organization) with full
observer status at the United Nations; I acceded.
Darko
faxed me all necessary paperwork enabling my application attendance at
this crucial meeting; I filled out the necessary forms and faxed them
to the appropriate United Nations office for approval. It was an
extremely exciting time for me. My close friend and colleague, Arnold
Stark (History professor and Columbian University PhD) drove me into
Manhattan walking me through the United Nations main entrance and
security the day of attendance. Professor Stark himself was an old
foreign service man from way back in the day and he told me I never
looked as professionally sharp as I did on that day; I wore a navy blue
pin striped suit. I must admit, I looked good.
Only
post attending that day did I truly understand the total lapse of
security existing then at the United Nations in New York City. I say
this owing to the social fact that the Law Projects Center was indeed
registered as an United nations accredited NGO it is true. However,
closed meetings of this sort meant attendance was strictly limited to
head ambassadors of valid United Nations member state missions and non
governmental organizations possessing observer status were not allowed.
Unto present, I’ve yet understood whereby I gained entrance into this
privy closed meeting consisting of only United Nations ambassadors,
but I did. Walking to the basement floor of the United Nations
building that day, I merely wore a visitors badge given to me at the
front desk in no manner indicating that I was an ambassador of a United
Nations mission; least of all the Bosnia mission as required for
entrance. Totally unaware I didn’t possess necessary credentials to
enter the meeting, I walked confidently towards the entrance door and
past the guard stationed outside it. The guard never bothering to
examine the type of badge I wore around my neck simply said “good day
Madame” and urged me into the meeting; it was just about time to begin.
I looked fervently around the room seeing no seats indicating seats for
United Nations observers anywhere. The last thing I wanted to do was
to embarrass myself by taking the seat of an important ambassador; I
noticed a couple of men seeming from some African state grabbing some
meeting paperwork nearby so I inquired of them.
I told
them I was a newbie and inquired where to sit and what I should do.
With heavy African accents one of them said, “just grab a bunch of
these papers, sit there and look like you are busy,” so I did. In
fact, I grabbed as many extra copies as I could without looking
conspicuous when noticing another peculiarity.
The
meeting papers indicated they were for restricted for the eyes of state
mission heads’ only (chief ambassadors of countries) and allowing other
persons and/or United Nations employees to view them was a punishable
offense. Uncertain what to do, and with the meeting beginning, I
merely sat there stunned. My seat and the one the African gentleman
next to me took seemed extras because they neglected having any
indication regarding country origin in front of them on the table; I
felt safe.
As totally immersed and interesting as I found
the topics, the African ambassador seated found boring. I say this
owing to noticing during the entire meeting he was merely doodling
nonsensical pictures on some legal pad. I think that no one took more
notes that day than me. I was especially interested in the interstate
bickering about financing the international criminal court should and
when it came about. Spain was particularly forceful in vocalizing its
opinion that the countries giving the most monetary contributions to
the court itself ought have more power over both its staffing and its
innocent and guilty verdicts as well as judges appointed. My
suspicions’ equally shared by scholars such as Noam Chomsky and former
attorney general, Ramsey Clark were now fully justifiably confirmed.
The court itself was a great travesty of justice and I was actually
witnessing quarrels between countries insofar as controlling the courts
judges and verdicts based on financial contributions rather than on law
and true international justice.
The most shocking point
of the meeting for me was when the Israeli ambassador admitted openly
to the other attendees that Israel was indifferent to war crimes,
crimes against humanity and would in no manner support any
international structure limiting its’ ability for practicing war and
peace against any other state and/or party it considered a threat to
its national interest.
The ambassador representing the
United States that day strongly and equally explicitly backed the
Israeli position making clear American attendance was more for
information gathering purposes and show than true concern for
international law, world peace and social justice. When the meeting
ended I slipped quickly out the front entrance of the United Nations;
notes and papers in hand; I would read them in detail later that
evening. When I attended these Preparatory Meetings at the end, the
First Ambassador to the Bosnian Mission in NYC (The Serbian Doctor with
glasses) came in but only stayed a short while as my witness to my
being there.
It must have amazed Darko upon
returning from Serbia I actually gained entrance to the ICC preparatory
closed meeting because within a week he invited me to the city to
attend another important meeting at the United Nations comprised of
diplomats from some very selective and prestigious NATO member
states. I don’t recall the date but by his return fully I understood
the definition of a closed meeting. Upon approaching the meeting door
I became at once cognizant the meeting stated “closed meeting,” on
the door. I did my best to point this fact out to Darko who told me to
go in with him anyway; we did. Darko obviously thought because I
gained entrance to the ICC meeting I ought not have in his absence,
perhaps if I were with him, he covertly could gain access this closed
NATO meeting; no dice. Upon entering the room, immediately some
important looking man called him over and diplomatically informed him
that “Serbia was not invited.” Darko pointed to me explaining that he
was with the American lady but he was asked politely to leave; I
followed him out the door embarrassed.
The following
year was mundane. Filled with activities like shuttling back and forth
to FDU for graduate school, fund raising for the Law Projects Center
and co-authoring two book with Darko. The fateful day of 9/11 and the
attacks by Al-Qaeda on the World Trade Center Towers in New York City
changed my venue forever.
Post 9/11 Darko became a man on a personal mission seemingly unrelated to the Bosnian mission itself.
He told me it was the utmost importance to publicize the alleged fact
that the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission was in his estimation
involved with Al-Qaeda.
Asking me to fervently work on editing a book on which topic was meant
for exposing the head ambassador of the Bosnian mission at that time; I
acceded. The publication was later published by the Repubika Srpska
information agency in Bosnia. The Serbian government in the Republika
Srpska in Bosnia then was seriously pressing Darko for a fast
publication so we stayed up many nights over his apartment in Forest
Hills, New York working to do so. The book was entitled, ”The Bosnia
Model of Al-Qaeda Terrorism. It can probably still be found and read
online. Last time I checked it was posted on the website:
http://www.analyst-network.com/profile.php?user_id=240.
Darko always told me I possessed full rights to this and other
publications we worked on together. Although I edited and co-authoring
the Al-Qaeda work, a few years back I noticed Darko removed my name on
the inner front cover page as editor replacing it with the name of a
Serbian editor. When questioned about it Darko told me he kept my name
from being published because of the death threats and dangers to my
life that he himself encountered because of its publication. I do
vividly remember Darko receiving a great many death threats and threats
towards his wife at the time, Bojana, so it is possible he was telling
me the truth.
Even prior completing our work on the
Al-Qaeda book together Darko was obsessed with manifesting the Bosnian
Chief ambassador at the time as a terrorist. At the time I had no
reason to doubt Darko’s word and assisted him in rabidly writing an
open letter to all the United Nations member state missions exposing
him as such. I surmise this is when Darko’s job at the United Nations
as First Secretary of the Bosnian mission became jeopardized.
Today I surmise Darko’s employment at the United Nations genuinely
became compromised owing not only to the inter-ethnic conflicts
existing between him and the head ambassador then, a proud Muslim man,
but also owing to the fact he forged birth certificates to acquire his
position in the first place later becoming a social fact from the
interior ministry in Bosnia. It was an emotional shock when Darko
informed me a by summer 2001 that he lost his job and he and Bojana had
to immediately return to Belgrade to work out the matter in court.
This was also a great emotional blow to me also owing to the fact that
I always possessed a crush on Darko and he knew it. This was a social
fact I never publicly admitted previously to writing this book. I once
even asked Darko if he wanted to have an affair with me but he declined
stating he would never be unfaithful to his beautiful wife, Bojana.
This left me in an extreme morally uncomfortable position because
Bojana was my best friend. I continually told myself being attracted
to her husband Darko was a non-option. Working so closely with him on
an almost daily basis however made my attraction to him difficult to
overcome.
I was also engaged to Professor Arnold Stark at
the time and wore the ten thousand diamond ring he bought me on my
finger. Arnold became increasingly jealous of Darko in time and
eventually forbid me to work with him altogether. Notwithstanding, I
continued working with Darko against Arnold’s wishes. This coupled
with my trip to Serbia and Montenegro in 2002 eventually led to my
breakup with Professor Stark and after almost an entire decade, my
relationship with Arnold never fully recovered.
Darko tried
keeping his job in diplomatic capacity at he UN as long as possible but
the bipolar friction and hate existing between himself and the chief
ambassador at the mission proved too much. The chief ambassador in
contact with the Bosnian government at the time in Sarajevo eventually
had Darko dismissed as first secretary of the mission. To the best of
my recollection Darko was no longer receiving a monthly salary from
Sarajevo by spring or summer 2002 (approximately).
I
often came visiting Darko and Bojana’s apartment in Manhattan then
situated on a side street within walking distance from the UN to help
them out financially by buying them inexpensive dinners and such in
Manhattan and chauffeuring them around (they did not own a car for the
majority of their stay in the States).
In July 2002 as I
remember the three of us spent many memorable moments going to the
beaches outside the city and just spending time talking etc.. At the
time and owing to my being in graduate school at FDU, I had plenty of
extra money to burn owing my taking the maximum GSL student loans
totaling about twenty thousand dollars a semester. Then one day that
summer Darko informed me he and Bojana were only awaiting the Bosnian
government to wire them a sum of five thousand dollars to pay off their
American bills, last month rent and they would make a hasty exit back
to Belgrade permanently. I was emotionally crushed.
Desperate not to lose contact with Darko because of my personal
feelings towards him, I told him my summer classes at FDU were about to
end August 2002 and although the fall semester was about to begin, I
wanted to visit him in Serbia as soon as possible. Soon for me meant
as soon as I received a check from the United States government for the
total of that semesters’ student loan money in the amount of about ten
thousand dollars.
Darko, hesitant at first soon gave in to
my constant petitions to visit him. The day I brought them both to JFK
to return to Serbia permanently, Bojana whispered something in Darko’s
ear as we hugged saying our goodbyes all three of trying to hold back
tears of parting and Darko looking me in the eye said something to the
effect, “Jill, don’t worry as soon as you can afford it call me and
we’ll arrange your visit.” Darko never could stand to see me cry which
on many occasion I did owing to the loss of my two children and other
personal challenges in my life. They turned and boarded their plane to
Belgrade as I drove back to New Jersey.
Driving home I
felt an odd combination of extreme sadness at the loss of my two best
friends mixed with the cheerful prospect I would shortly be boarding a
plane myself destined for Serbia and Montenegro by mid August 2002 when
my student loan check arrived. Upon arriving home I immediately began
making all necessary arrangements for my forthcoming trip.
The day following Darko ‘s departure, I bought a great many prepaid
phone cards for the purpose of calling him owing to both my missing him
and also my primarily wanting to began making all necessary
arrangements facilitating my forthcoming visit from JFK to Beograd. I
had countless questions such as: how much money will I need, how will I
obtain a VISA being an American citizen with all the US State
Department warnings against US citizenry traveling to the region, etc.,
etc., etc.. I had already obtained a valid United States passport many
years ago which I always carried with me. I’ve always held the strong
opinion that having a valid passport with you at all times is just a
good idea. It enables one the necessary freedom to go to the airport
and catch a plane going anywhere at anytime.
Darko told me that I need not worry about all the complicated VISA
requirements listed on Serbian government website required of other
Americans that he would handle everything. I was told merely to bring
with me about five thousand United States dollars in cash spending
money and it was a done deal. I went to buy some new suitcases and
clothes for my trip in Wayne, New Jersey during the first two weeks in
August 2002 in preparation. Packing was always a problem for me as
Darko can attest to owing to my medically diagnosed attention deficit
disorder. I had a difficult time deciding what to bring, so I tried to
bring everything I thought I needed. The day of my departure my
suitcases weighed way over the weight limit restrictions indicated by
the airline.
Getting to JFK for departure in mid August 2002
proved to be an almost insurmountable task in and of itself owing to my
heavy luggage and everyone I asked to drop me at the airport that day
had strongly held views against my going.
Arnold Stark
declined to bring me owing to his personal jealousies insofar as Darko
and everyone else had one or another excuse rooted in the anti-American
sentiment in Serbia at that time and danger involved.
Undeterred, I finally convinced Archbishop John LoBue, my priest and
confessor at the Holy Name Orthodox Christian Church in West Milford,
New Jersey to take me as far as the Port Authority in Manhattan; from
there I took a bus to JFK managing myself.
I loved flying JAT! Not only was I completely
satisfied the flight from Paris to Belgrade was many times more secure
since JAT searched boarding passengers more thoroughly than JFK, the
hospitality, food and drink was excellent. I say this owing to my
being a well seasoned traveler having previously visited places such as
Indonesia, Thailand and Hong Kong, etc.. It was extremely laid back on
the flight. People moved around switching seats and chatting with good
friends and the food was the best!
My favorite Serbian food
and drink were served and all airline employees shoed me the highest
level of hospitality. I was extremely pleased with the professionalism
and service on JAT I later began an online blog about it on Yahoo360.
Upon my flight arriving in Beograd, all passengers left the plane in
the usual manner except Serbian citizens were shuffled through customs
quickly merely showing their passport. All others including myself
were asked to relinquish their passports and told to wait an
unspecified amount of time in a holding area at the airport. An
airport security officer went around confiscating our passports
afterward leaving us merely standing there not knowing what to expect
next. No other announcements were made; I did the only thing possible
I relinquished my passport to the Serbian custom official along with
the other western Europeans and/or Americans (if there were any) which
I surmised like myself were attempting to enter Serbia from countries
that were NATO allies in the Kosovo war against Slobodan Milosevic in
1999. There must have been about twenty persons with me just waiting.
All types of nagging thoughts plagued me such as “perhaps my friends
were correct that I ought not have taken this trip…was it really too
dangerous to travel to Serbia with all the anti-American sentiment and
what would happen if Serbian customs decided I was an American spy,
kept my passport and I ended in some unknown jail and/or murdered….who
would find me…what could I do about it etc., etc., etc..”
It seemed nearly an hour passed; me and the others were still standing
there waiting. I didn’t want to seem scared or overly curious by
asking either Serbian custom officials or anyone else waiting with me
anything as to not cause unnecessary attention to myself. I also kept
checking my watch wondering if Darko knew I was here waiting. I had
hoped with his government connections he would at least inquire about
my arrival since he told me he would pick me up. I drew comfort from
the fact Darko was always very punctual picking up and bringing himself
and others to airports.
On numerous occasions I gave
him and others rides to and from them. These and other thoughts
plagued me when suddenly I heard a voice on the loud speaker call my
name, Jill Starr, asking me to go to a customs area to claim my
passport.
I was the first person called so I don’t know
what happened to the others standing there still waiting. I hurriedly
went to obtain my passport and was told that I cleared; the guard
pointed the direction for me to go claim my luggage. You have no idea
what a relief that was!
I took in my new surroundings
pleased that I made it into the country successfully. As a young child
my father took me with him traveling the world when he was an active
nuclear engineering consultant for Chas T Main, USAID and the IMF. I
had been in Indonesia during the turmoil in East Timor so I was used to
being in war zones surrounded by soldiers with guns. I was presently
older, but still I found such travel extremely exciting more than
dangerous and looked forward to enjoying the rest of my vacation with
Darko and Bojana.
Making it to the baggage claim
area successfully I was relieved seeing Darko standing their waiting
for me. I was not fluent in Serbian and didn‘t want to publicize it by
asking people questions in English manifesting I was American. I
hurried towards him, giving him a large hug.
I was so glad
to see Darko. I noticed upon my arrival at the Belgrade airport that
there were many female police officers equipped with guns wearing short
mini skirts and extremely high heels. I asked Darko how they
apprehended criminals in such high heels and he replied smirking that
they don’t have to run, they merely shot those not halting in the back
and that stopped them.
Like a dream come true, there I was
in Beograd Serbia against all odds and complaints from my friends.
Darko helped me get my luggage to his friend’s vehicle telling me we
could talk about everything I had to say later because we had to
hurry.
Darko‘s friend, a German man living in Serbia for
years and an important military employee of the Serbian government in a
grayish older large SUV vehicle with what seemed a special license
plate was impatiently waiting at the front gate of the airport for us.
Darko’s friend did not speak fluent English but he did speak fluent
German and Serbian. Upon writing the first edition of my book I still
wondered who this man really was because Darko pointed out to me
proudly, while placing my luggage in the vehicle of his car, this car
“specifically bore special Serbian military license plates;“ Darko
pointed this out to me at the airport and I was greatly impressed to be
in a Serb military vehicle.
The man picking me up at the
Serbia, Beograd airport with Darko also referred to himself merely by
a nickname. If my memory serves me correct he said to call him, “Babic
or Babo” or something like that. “Babic” is not probably not 100%
correct because my memory is kind of fuzzy on this. However, in coming
across a BBC website with a photograph of Dragan Dabic, the male
construction worker whom apparently Dr. Radovan Karadzic was assuming
the identity of before he was arrested and transferred to the Hague in
2008; it does look about 90% correct in my memory that it was Mr.
Dragan Dabic who picked me up at the Beograd Serbia airport that day.
Even his glasses look the same and he told me he used to work as a
military mercenary for the Serbs during war time and he was originally
from Germany. Whoever it was, he was a relatively short man in height
with salt and pepper hair.
We drove all around the city of (Beograd) in his large van type SUV
again; he gave me a large tour of the entire city area pointing out
everything.
It seems almost surreal to me actually chance
meeting so many fascinating and exciting people, I almost didn’t want
to mention possibly meeting, Dragan Dabic, too in the second edition
of my book.
But, I decided to write the best and most
truthful testimonies of my memories as possible about my super cool
vacation in Serbia & Montenegro in 2002.
Anyway, so
Darko told whomever this man was to please help lift my luggage
into the trunk in Serbian and he did. Darko always liked to brag and
as usual he introduced me to his friend giving me the details of his
being an important man in the Serbian military etc.. We went straight
from the Beograd airport to the home of Bojana’s family in the suburbs
of Belgrade and all became reacquainted. Whomever it was, he was a
relatively short man in height with salt and pepper hair and muscular
with that triangle type of nose.
Bojana and I hugged;
she introduced me to her family (father, mother and brother who was a
high school student in Beograd). Afterward, Darko showed me the room
upstairs where I would sleep which was actually Bojana’s room also
informing me of our three week itinerary; he had it all planned out.
Darko told me we would all spend the night over Bojana’s house, the
next day sleep at his apartment outside Beograd and later explained the
next day we would stop at his father’s family’s house for dinner and
leave from there making our way into Montenegro for a ten day vacation
staying at his friend’s resort on Budva’s seaside coast. Along the way
Darko told me he would give me the best tour I could ask for and he
did. He showed me military installations and one of my favorite stops
was the NATO bombed Chinese embassy which I stood in front of only
several yards from.
My night at Bojana’s
residence was wonderful. I was never showed as much love and
hospitality as I did from her family. Although it was late in the
evening (about 11pm Serbian time) when we arrived, Bojana’s mother, a
wonderful woman, treated me as her own daughter. She insisted that
Darko, Bojana and I enjoy what seemed a 10 course home cooked meal.
She was still cooking while she served us a variety of cooked steaks,
vegetables and pastries. And like many Italian families she insisted I
tried and ate everything. To top the night off before bed Bojana and
her father performed an accordion duet live in the kitchen for me.
Apparently, Bojana and her father were professional accordion players
and Bojana explained that her father’s employment consisted of playing
nightly in a local bar. Thereafter, we went to bed with full stomachs.
The next morning we all enjoyed an equally exquisite breakfast.
Bojana’s family had livestock in the backyard and her mother cooked us
a fresh eggs and steak for breakfast like never before experienced. We
said our parting goodbyes and left for Darko’s apartment in the hills
of Beograd. We brought my suitcases in and upon entering I noticed
there were lots of stray dogs around the apartment entrance. One in
particular was very cute and Darko explained that the various residents
fed it because it was so adorable. I found it interesting that so many
old men were just hanging about the entrance to the apartment building
drinking and just sitting there with seemingly nothing to do. They
remained there throughout my entire trip.
Even when Ratko
Mladic came to see me on my final day in Serbia in full military
regalia giving me a parting gift (a book he inscribed to me entitled
Serbija) while Darko took pictures of Mladic with his arm around me,
the men remained there merely looking like old bums. Retrospectively, I
wonder if they weren’t some watchmen and/or guards. Unto this day I
always wondered what Darko did with those photos.
I was
surprised what a very large apartment Darko owned. He showed me into
his guest room and I unpacked my suitcases in just enough time to
inform me I was to consolidate all my truly necessary items for
Montenegro into one small bag that would reasonably fit into his trunk
in the morning because he needed enough room for his and Bojana’s
luggage also. He laughed at all the things I brought with me to
Beograd telling me that I had no idea how to pack.
By
the time I was done with that task Darko told me it was time to go meet
some friends at a local café for coffee. It was late summer and the
outside café’s in Beograd were the best !
We met up with
a few friends in some restaurant in Beograd; there was about five of us
sitting there just chatting and drinking coffee when I noticed an older
gentleman sitting a few seats down with feathered salt and pepper
colored hair not saying much except for an occasional laugh and nod at
us. I wondered wherefore Darko a man about thirty would associate with
such an older person, as for me being several years older than Darko, I
thought to myself, what a cute guy. Then upon closer inspection, I
realized it was doctor Radovan Karadzic. I knew he was a
psychiatrist. By no means was this to be our last meeting. Throughout
the time I spent in Serbia Darko met with Karadzic on many occasions in
Beograd. The meetings were usually brief; only to exchange oral
information and/or a few papers with Darko and whisper something or
other in Darko‘s ear. He looks as the news media portrays him dressed
in his gray wrinkled suit and tie and salt and pepper colored hair. He
was a perfect gentleman all times I met him with Darko. After finishing
our coffee, Darko said we ought leave and get a good night
Copyright © 2010 DrustvenaMreza.com
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