Zaltho Foundation

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"Balkans"
Claude AnShin Thomas

I was recently in Bosnia-Herzegovina for one month. During that time I was in the city of Mostar, ninety kilometers south of Sarajevo. The fighting was much more intense in Mostar than in Sarejevo. We see in the news mostly what's happening in Sarejevo because that is where the journalists are. In Sarajevo it's safer. The destruction in Mostar and the surrounding areas is much more severe than there.

The last time I was in a war zone, I was a soldier in Vietnam. The last time I was in a war zone I carried a gun. The last time I was in a war zone I was responsible for the deaths of hundreds and hundreds of people.

Before I went to Vietnam I could have told you what the war was about. But just two or three days after my arrival in the country, I couldn't have told you. Because what I believed in before I went made no sense once I got there. And if you asked me today, "Why are they fighting in these territories in the former Yugoslavia?" I couldn't tell you. Nor can most of the people there. Most of the people there want to live in peace. Most of the people I spoke with, and I spoke with many, don't want to fight, including those who are carrying guns.

I don't like to distinguish between one ethnic territory and another, because the distinctions are arbitrary. These borders have changed many times. People there often said to me "We don't care where the borders are. Because after a while, they'll all change again anyway. We just want the fighting to stop."

So I went into this area. Went in not because I felt I had anything in particular to give, but because I wanted to learn from these people about how a place of war and violence could become a place of nonviolence, a place where conflict can exist without it having to be settled by guns, bombs, planes, fists, knives, or words that cut even deeper than knives.

I walked onto the front lines of the city of Mostar, where one army was shooting at civilians on one side, while another army was shooting at civilians on the other side. You see the targets are not military targets. But what's the difference? In war there isn't any difference. I had the opportunity to go into the bunkers where the snipers were, and to talk to them about not fighting. I walked into an armed camp without a gun, into the headquarters of the "Ustasha," the Fascists, and I talked to them about not fighting. They all said to me, "How do you not fight?" I said, "You just don't fight. It's that simple: you just don't fight." They said, "It's not possible." I looked at my watch and said, "We've been talking for half an hour, and for half an hour you haven't been fighting. It's entirely possible."

I felt I was given a tremendous gift, to be able to go to a place like this without a gun and talk about not fighting. When I was fighting in Vietnam, there was nobody doing this that I knew of. And I believe that from the grassroots, this war, all war can be ended. When the people who don't want to fight anymore raise up their voices, move into nonviolent action.

I sat with wounded soldiers in hospitals. I talked with one soldier in particular for four days in a row, for several hours each day. I told him that I had spent nine months in a military hospital because of the wounds I suffered in Vietnam -- I have artificially rebuilt shoulder. When I was initially treated I was told that I would probably lose my arm at the shoulder. But the Army Doctors and Army medical technology save my arm by rebuilding my shoulder. This young man had been shot at the elbow, and he was told that he might lose his arm above his elbow. But he didn't because his enemy saved his arm and then sent him back to his side where the hospital conditions were better, so he had a chance.

The first day all he could talk about was the beasts on the other side. The second day he began to talk about his own experience of the war, as I shared my experience of my war, because our wars weren't different. At the root of war there's no difference. On the third day he let me know that his girlfriend was of a different ethnic origin than he was. He told me how stupid this war was. He asked me, "How was it for you when you came home from your war? I said to him, "When I came home, my society and my culture pushed me aside. They didn't particularly want to talk to me." He said, "Here its not different, when you're on the front line fighting, you're a hero. But when you're wounded and you can't fight anymore nobody wants to know you." I asked him what I could give him and he said, "I have everything I need, except someone to talk to who understands. You and I are brothers. You understand like no one can understand, not even my family.

I talked with a schoolteacher about not fighting, and she said as most of the people I talked with would say, "It's easy for you to talk about not fighting, but what do you know about war?" So I told her, as I would tell other people asking the same question, about my war experiences, and as I talked I could see her face change and become more open. She said, "You know we don't talk about this much, but each day, coming to and going from school, at least one child is killed by snipers." I said "that is what's necessary to talk about."

I could not get to the East side without being smuggled. Once there I was told that I had to wear armored plating and an Army type helmet, I refused simply because the people who live in these areas don't wear helmets or armored plating and I wanted to be as little separated from them and there experience as possible. I also slept in bombed-ut buildings and alleyways, like the people who live there, I carried as much food as I could, and as discretely as possible, not to offend anyone's sensibilities, I did not eat it but gave it away.

Now, in the city of Mostar, there's a cease fire. They're really not fighting. And I can't help but think that the presence of people like myself is an encouragement. That just by being there and bearing witness. we remind them that there is a voice to stop this war, to stop war, and they have it.

On the way home I had a chance encounter with Paul Tsongas in an airport. We were both snowed in. I recognized him and introduced myself. He asked me what I did , and I mentioned that I had just come back from these territories. When I brought up the idea of nonviolent conflict resolution he asked, "What would you tell a mother whose three children were just killed by an artillery barrage while they were out sledding? What would you tell that woman? In that moment I had nothing to say to him. I felt as I had when I was standing in the most destroyed sections of Mostar. Where regardless of which side of the fighting every time I crossed the street I was being shot at by people from the other side. I thought to myself, "What can I do here? What can I possibly do?"

And in reflection it came to me. What I could say to this woman was simply that I understand her loss, because I've held young boys while they have died. I've been covered by their blood, I understand the overwhelming power of grief. And I would say to this woman, "Mother, part of this grief is a powerful anger." And I would invite her, "Mother, let me help you sit with this feeling. Because if you allow this feeling to sweep you away in its grasp, and if you return the violence, then how are you different? If you return the anger someone else's son or daughter will die, and there will never be peace." I would invite her, "Mother, find your compassion, touch with you compassion these people who are shelling you. Understand their suffering." That's how I am coming to understand my "enemy," the Vietnamese who are no longer. My enemy, my only enemy is me.

People get swept away in a particular nationalistic point of view, but the reality in these territories in this time is that on all sides they are killing each other. They are all raping women, they are all killing children, they are all shooting priests, they are all burying people in mass graves, all of them. NO ONE IS INNOCENT IN WAR!!

I invite us all to transcend our politics and our nationalism and to reach for compassion. And in looking at how to help people in this place (the Balkans) let us look 1st at how to help ourselves, our families, our neighborhoods and our communities. It is through this process of looking deeply that enables us to see more clearly and our actions of helping (directed outward) become more effective. As we heal so do our families, our communities, our towns, cities, and countries -- WE BECOME PEACE!!

< Back | Short Stories & Essays | Next >

"Balkans"
Claude AnShin Thomas

I was recently in Bosnia-Herzegovina for one month. During that time I was in the city of Mostar, ninety kilometers south of Sarajevo. The fighting was much more intense in Mostar than in Sarejevo. We see in the news mostly what's happening in Sarejevo because that is where the journalists are. In Sarajevo it's safer. The destruction in Mostar and the surrounding areas is much more severe than there.

The last time I was in a war zone, I was a soldier in Vietnam. The last time I was in a war zone I carried a gun. The last time I was in a war zone I was responsible for the deaths of hundreds and hundreds of people.

Before I went to Vietnam I could have told you what the war was about. But just two or three days after my arrival in the country, I couldn't have told you. Because what I believed in before I went made no sense once I got there. And if you asked me today, "Why are they fighting in these territories in the former Yugoslavia?" I couldn't tell you. Nor can most of the people there. Most of the people there want to live in peace. Most of the people I spoke with, and I spoke with many, don't want to fight, including those who are carrying guns.

I don't like to distinguish between one ethnic territory and another, because the distinctions are arbitrary. These borders have changed many times. People there often said to me "We don't care where the borders are. Because after a while, they'll all change again anyway. We just want the fighting to stop."

So I went into this area. Went in not because I felt I had anything in particular to give, but because I wanted to learn from these people about how a place of war and violence could become a place of nonviolence, a place where conflict can exist without it having to be settled by guns, bombs, planes, fists, knives, or words that cut even deeper than knives.

I walked onto the front lines of the city of Mostar, where one army was shooting at civilians on one side, while another army was shooting at civilians on the other side. You see the targets are not military targets. But what's the difference? In war there isn't any difference. I had the opportunity to go into the bunkers where the snipers were, and to talk to them about not fighting. I walked into an armed camp without a gun, into the headquarters of the "Ustasha," the Fascists, and I talked to them about not fighting. They all said to me, "How do you not fight?" I said, "You just don't fight. It's that simple: you just don't fight." They said, "It's not possible." I looked at my watch and said, "We've been talking for half an hour, and for half an hour you haven't been fighting. It's entirely possible."

I felt I was given a tremendous gift, to be able to go to a place like this without a gun and talk about not fighting. When I was fighting in Vietnam, there was nobody doing this that I knew of. And I believe that from the grassroots, this war, all war can be ended. When the people who don't want to fight anymore raise up their voices, move into nonviolent action.

I sat with wounded soldiers in hospitals. I talked with one soldier in particular for four days in a row, for several hours each day. I told him that I had spent nine months in a military hospital because of the wounds I suffered in Vietnam -- I have artificially rebuilt shoulder. When I was initially treated I was told that I would probably lose my arm at the shoulder. But the Army Doctors and Army medical technology save my arm by rebuilding my shoulder. This young man had been shot at the elbow, and he was told that he might lose his arm above his elbow. But he didn't because his enemy saved his arm and then sent him back to his side where the hospital conditions were better, so he had a chance.

The first day all he could talk about was the beasts on the other side. The second day he began to talk about his own experience of the war, as I shared my experience of my war, because our wars weren't different. At the root of war there's no difference. On the third day he let me know that his girlfriend was of a different ethnic origin than he was. He told me how stupid this war was. He asked me, "How was it for you when you came home from your war? I said to him, "When I came home, my society and my culture pushed me aside. They didn't particularly want to talk to me." He said, "Here its not different, when you're on the front line fighting, you're a hero. But when you're wounded and you can't fight anymore nobody wants to know you." I asked him what I could give him and he said, "I have everything I need, except someone to talk to who understands. You and I are brothers. You understand like no one can understand, not even my family.

I talked with a schoolteacher about not fighting, and she said as most of the people I talked with would say, "It's easy for you to talk about not fighting, but what do you know about war?" So I told her, as I would tell other people asking the same question, about my war experiences, and as I talked I could see her face change and become more open. She said, "You know we don't talk about this much, but each day, coming to and going from school, at least one child is killed by snipers." I said "that is what's necessary to talk about."

I could not get to the East side without being smuggled. Once there I was told that I had to wear armored plating and an Army type helmet, I refused simply because the people who live in these areas don't wear helmets or armored plating and I wanted to be as little separated from them and there experience as possible. I also slept in bombed-ut buildings and alleyways, like the people who live there, I carried as much food as I could, and as discretely as possible, not to offend anyone's sensibilities, I did not eat it but gave it away.

Now, in the city of Mostar, there's a cease fire. They're really not fighting. And I can't help but think that the presence of people like myself is an encouragement. That just by being there and bearing witness. we remind them that there is a voice to stop this war, to stop war, and they have it.

On the way home I had a chance encounter with Paul Tsongas in an airport. We were both snowed in. I recognized him and introduced myself. He asked me what I did , and I mentioned that I had just come back from these territories. When I brought up the idea of nonviolent conflict resolution he asked, "What would you tell a mother whose three children were just killed by an artillery barrage while they were out sledding? What would you tell that woman? In that moment I had nothing to say to him. I felt as I had when I was standing in the most destroyed sections of Mostar. Where regardless of which side of the fighting every time I crossed the street I was being shot at by people from the other side. I thought to myself, "What can I do here? What can I possibly do?"

And in reflection it came to me. What I could say to this woman was simply that I understand her loss, because I've held young boys while they have died. I've been covered by their blood, I understand the overwhelming power of grief. And I would say to this woman, "Mother, part of this grief is a powerful anger." And I would invite her, "Mother, let me help you sit with this feeling. Because if you allow this feeling to sweep you away in its grasp, and if you return the violence, then how are you different? If you return the anger someone else's son or daughter will die, and there will never be peace." I would invite her, "Mother, find your compassion, touch with you compassion these people who are shelling you. Understand their suffering." That's how I am coming to understand my "enemy," the Vietnamese who are no longer. My enemy, my only enemy is me.

People get swept away in a particular nationalistic point of view, but the reality in these territories in this time is that on all sides they are killing each other. They are all raping women, they are all killing children, they are all shooting priests, they are all burying people in mass graves, all of them. NO ONE IS INNOCENT IN WAR!!

I invite us all to transcend our politics and our nationalism and to reach for compassion. And in looking at how to help people in this place (the Balkans) let us look 1st at how to help ourselves, our families, our neighborhoods and our communities. It is through this process of looking deeply that enables us to see more clearly and our actions of helping (directed outward) become more effective. As we heal so do our families, our communities, our towns, cities, and countries -- WE BECOME PEACE!!