Why the Whole World Should Visit Srebrenica
Every July 11 marks the anniversary of the Srebrenica genocide. Tens of thousands of people come to Potočari on that day—but this place should not be visited only on days of remembrance. And not only by Europeans. Why Srebrenica is a place for all of humanity.
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The Road to Srebrenica
The drive from Sarajevo to the eastern Bosnian town of Srebrenica takes you through beautiful countryside. Green hills, river valleys, and villages where time seems to pass more slowly. Anyone traveling this route for the first time can hardly believe that this peaceful region was the scene of one of the worst war crimes in Europe since World War II.
On July 11, 1995, Serbian forces stormed the UN safe area of Srebrenica. In the days that followed, more than 8,000 Bosniaks—men and boys, including minors—were murdered and buried in mass graves, all under the watchful eyes of Dutch UN peacekeepers. Survivors are still searching for their loved ones to this day. The remains that have been found are buried every year on July 11 in Potočari.
I’ve been reporting on Srebrenica for many years. My first story on the subject was written while I was still at *Vanity Fair*—it was about my encounter with Hatidža Mehmedović, the founder of the Mothers of Srebrenica, who lost her husband and two sons in the genocide. On the 15th anniversary, I spoke with Christian Schwarz-Schilling, the former High Representative for Bosnia and Herzegovina—the man who enacted the law establishing the Srebrenica-Potočari Memorial Center in 2007. As a journalist, Srebrenica has never let me go. And the more often I visited, the clearer it became to me: This place is not just a matter for Bosnia. Not just for Europe. It concerns the whole world.
Why Srebrenica Belongs to the Whole World
The Srebrenica genocide did not take place in secret. It took place in a United Nations safe area—the first ever to be established. It took place under the watchful eye of the international community, in the midst of the television age, fifty years after the promise of “Never Again.” This is not a Bosnian lesson, nor is it a European one. It is a universal lesson about the failure of the international community—and about what happens when the world looks the other way.
The mechanisms that led to Srebrenica are the same everywhere: the dehumanization of neighbors, propaganda, the silence of bystanders—and then denial. They repeat themselves, on every continent, to this day. Anyone who wants to understand how genocide arises and how it is denied will find in Srebrenica perhaps the best-documented case of our time: International courts have classified the crimes as genocide; 54 perpetrators were sentenced to a total of 781 years in prison and five life sentences—including Radovan Karadžić, the political leader of the Bosnian Serbs and wartime president of the Republika Srpska, and Ratko Mladić, the commander-in-chief of the Bosnian Serb Army, who personally marched into Srebrenica on July 11, 1995.
The United Nations itself has now recognized that this commemoration is a global one: In 2024, the UN General Assembly designated July 11 as the International Day of Commemoration of the Srebrenica Genocide.
The Mothers of Srebrenica: From the Deepest Pain Comes the Greatest Strength
It is primarily women who are spreading peace throughout the world from Srebrenica. The mothers of Srebrenica —women whose husbands, sons, and brothers were murdered—would have every reason to hate. Instead, they became the country’s moral compass: They fought in courts, at the United Nations, and before the global public—not for revenge, but for truth, justice, and the dignity of their dead.
When I first visited the mothers during an Emmaus Boot Camp, they were still living in their homes—many of them alone—scattered throughout the villages around Srebrenica. Today they live in the retirement home that was built especially for them in Potočari. There they spend their twilight years—within sight of their sons’ graves. And there they receive visitors.
I’ll never forget the first time one of the mothers took my hand. That gentle yet powerful squeeze—determined, yet full of love! It wasn’t until we said goodbye that tears came to my eyes, as I realized what a privilege it was to have spoken with her. She was an eyewitness to one of the most horrific chapters in European history. And I knew that this was a moment in my life that changed me and continues to shape me to this day. These women are ambassadors of peace who are helping to build a better present and future.
That is one of the most human reasons to travel to Srebrenica: You can still meet these women. You can listen to them, hold their hands, and learn from them how to transform the deepest pain into peace work.
Hasan Hasanović: “We must be their voice”
Today, most visitors come to the Memorial Center and the cemetery in the village of Potočari near Srebrenica, where the main base of the Dutch UN protection forces was once located. Hasan Hasanović works there. In July 1995, he fled Srebrenica with his twin brother, his father, and his uncle, making their way through the woods toward Tuzla. He was the only member of his family to survive the so-called “death march.”
“My murdered family members and all the other victims are the reason I returned to Srebrenica,” he told me during one of my visits. “They can no longer speak for themselves. We must be their voice now.”
Hasan still remembers well how little interest the international community initially showed in the genocide. That this changed is thanks to the efforts of the survivors, who tirelessly spoke out about it around the world—and to the mothers of Srebrenica, who forced the United Nations to search for the victims and hold those responsible to account. One of their greatest achievements was the UN General Assembly’s Srebrenica resolution.
Still, Hasan finds it hard to remain optimistic. The country has not come to terms with its past; political instability and emigration weigh heavily on him. And yet he does not give up: He has written books, gives lectures all over the world, and working with young people is especially important to him. “It raises their awareness that the genocide can no longer be denied and that historical revisionism is no longer possible.”
The Flower of Srebrenica: Why We Wear It—and Give It as a Gift
Anyone who meets the mothers will come to know their symbol: the Flower of Srebrenica. Eleven white petals surrounding a green center—the eleven petals represent July 11, the white symbolizes the innocence of those murdered and the sea of white grave markers in Potočari, and the green stands for the hope that something like this will never happen again. Nowhere. To anyone.
The flower was designed by Jasminka Čamdžić of the women’s association “Gračaničko keranje,” whose members continue to this day to craft them using the traditional Bosnian needlework technique known as keranje—stitch by stitch, by hand, each one unique. [I have already written extensively about the Flower of Remembrance](https://lelaswelt.de/balkan/srebrenica-genozid-blume-der-erinnerung-symbol-fuer-frieden/).
Worn on the lapel, it is what the poppy is to British remembrance: a quiet, visible commitment. *I remember. I will not look away.* Those who wear it make remembrance public—to combat forgetting and to oppose the denial of the genocide, which continues to this day.
And then there’s the idea that was embedded in this flower from the very beginning: The creators in Gračanica wanted their crocheted flower to be given away as a gift, not sold. “Our wish is that this flower be given as a gift,” says Azemina Ahmedbegović, the association’s chairwoman. Of course, the Srebrenica flower is also available for purchase today—as a pin or as a piece of silver filigree, the proceeds from which partly fund scholarships for young people from Srebrenica. But its essence remains in sharing: every flower given as a gift is a memory passed on. It travels from hand to hand, from country to country, carrying the story of Srebrenica to places where it has not yet reached.
That is the essence of this text: A symbol intended as a gift belongs to no one—and thus to everyone. “The flower is not just for Srebrenica,” says Ahmedbegović. “It represents each and every one of us. We are all Srebrenica.”
The March That Reverses Direction: Marš mira
Every year from July 8 to 10, thousands of people set out on a special journey—most recently, regularly more than 6,000 participants from Bosnia and Herzegovina and around the world: The Marš mira, the Peace March, covers about 100 kilometers in three daily stages from Nezuk to Potočari—through forests, over mountain ridges, and past places with names that everyone in Bosnia knows: Crni Vrh, Kamenica, Buljim.
The route follows the 1995 death march in reverse. At that time, between 12,000 and 15,000 people—mostly men and boys—tried to make their way through these forests to free territory—without water, without food, without medicine, under constant fire, through ambushes and minefields. For thousands, it was their final journey.
The participants in the Peace March follow the same route—but in the opposite direction: not fleeing, but walking with their heads held high, in remembrance. Along the way, “history lessons” take place at historic sites, and survivors of the Death March share their stories—some of them walk the route themselves, year after year. On July 10, the procession reaches Potočari, on the eve of the memorial service and the collective burial.
And here, on a small scale, we see what should hold true on a larger scale: People from nearly every continent have long been participating in the Marš mira. The march is living proof that Srebrenica can be a place of global remembrance.
Ramiz Nukić: The Man Who Brought the Dead Home
When it comes to Srebrenica, there is one story that must be told—that of Ramiz Nukić from Kamenica near Bratunac. He himself survived the death march in 1995; his father and brothers were murdered along the way.
After returning to his home village at the foot of Kameničko Brdo, he began searching the surrounding forests for the remains of his relatives. Once he had found them, he did not stop. He continued searching—for the others. For over two decades, he combed through the forests day after day—including minefields—and handed over the remains of about 300 people to the Institute for Missing Persons. He never asked for any money in return. People called him the “Bone Collector of Kamenica.”
“I do this to bring joy to the families—even if it’s not real joy,” he once said. “But when you find the remains, at least you know where to bury your loved ones. I know how hard it was for me before my father’s and my brothers’ remains were found.”
Ramiz Nukić died in November 2022 at the age of 63, following a serious illness. His legacy consists of names on gravestones where there had previously been only uncertainty.
What to See in Potočari
The Srebrenica-Potočari Memorial and Cemetery are located in the village of Potočari, a few kilometers from Srebrenica—directly across from the former battery factory where the Dutch UN battalion, Dutchbat, had its headquarters. In July 1995, thousands fled here in the hope of finding protection. For many, this place became their final resting place.
The first collective burial took place on March 31, 2003: 600 identified victims. The Memorial Center was officially opened on September 20, 2003, by former U.S. President Bill Clinton. Today, more than 6,700 victims of the genocide are buried in Potočari; the search continues for approximately 1,000 people who are still missing.
Anyone entering the valley finds themselves facing a sea of white stelae. Row after row, name after name—and the same last name appears again and again: fathers next to sons, brothers next to brothers. Across the street, in the former factory hall, the exhibition tells the story of the Protected Zone: personal belongings of those murdered, testimonies from survivors, and the restored concrete cube bearing the inscription “UN.”
And there, one comes to understand a detail that captures the full horror of this crime: To cover up their actions, the perpetrators used heavy machinery in the fall of 1995 to open the mass graves and distribute the bodies among secondary graves. That is why the remains of individual victims were found in several—in some cases up to five—different graves. That is why graves in Potočari are still being reopened today to add bones that have been found later. And that is why some of the coffins being carried to their final resting places on July 11 contain a single bone.
The most recent victim to be buried in Potočari is a newborn: Fatima Muhić. She was born on the night of July 12–13, 1995—the night after the fall of Srebrenica—at the UN base in Potočari and died that same night. She was not identified until 2012; in 2013, she was buried next to her father, Hajrudin, who had been murdered during the death march. She was not given a name until her burial—eighteen years after her death, her mother’s wish to name her Fatima was fulfilled. The oldest victim, Šaha Izmirlić, was born in 1901.
The future is still bright
People who travel to Srebrenica don’t just visit graves. That’s perhaps the most important thing I can say after all my visits there.
In Srebrenica, the Silverframe Film Festival brings young cinema to life—with international guests, films, and discussions: culture as a sign of life in a place that many associate only with death. At the Emmaus Boot Camp, young people from various countries come to eastern Bosnia, meet survivors, pitch in, and learn—a culture of remembrance in action rather than “shock tourism.” I had the privilege of being there myself and witnessed how encounters lead to understanding, and understanding to responsibility.
Anyone who comes to Srebrenica will meet people who are building a future out of the darkest of times: Hasan, through his educational work; the mothers, with their power to bring about reconciliation; the women of Gračanica, with their flowers; young filmmakers; and volunteers from all over the world.
Srebrenica is not asking for pity. It is asking to be seen—by the whole world. Because only what the world has seen can it no longer deny. And only those who understand how it could have happened can prevent it from happening again. Somewhere. Someday.
That’s why everyone should have stood in this valley at least once. Not just Europeans. The whole world.
Visiting Srebrenica: Practical Information
Getting There: From Sarajevo, it’s about two and a half to three hours by car heading northeast. If you drive via Bratunac, you’ll pass through the valley—where the death march took place in 1995—just before Potočari.
Memorial Center: The memorial is open daily from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.; admission is free. Guided tours with curators and interpreters are available—groups should register in advance (posjeta-visit@srebrenicamemorial.org). You should plan to spend at least half a day visiting the cemetery and the exhibition in the former battery factory.
Behavior on Site: Potočari is a cemetery and a place of mourning. Appropriate attire is a given—shoulders and knees should be covered, and women should cover their hair when visiting the cemetery; a scarf or shawl in your bag will suffice. Discretion when taking photographs is also expected, especially during funerals and out of respect for the bereaved.
Encounters: The mothers of Srebrenica welcome visitors at their retirement home in Potočari; inquiries are best directed to the Memorial Center. Those traveling in July can experience the Marš mira (July 8–10) and the memorial service on July 11—but should be aware that these days are dedicated to the families of the victims.
More in-depth information—in two accompanying articles:
– Srebrenica: The Timeline—from 1992 to the Present —All the key dates at a glance: from the start of the siege through the convictions of Karadžić and Mladić to the UN resolution. And the story of an apology that was later retracted.
– What You Should Know About Srebrenica – The Ten Facts Everyone Should Know: from the youngest victim to the bone collector from Kamenica to the flower meant to be passed on.
