Bosniaks in Qatar Keep War Memories Alive for Next Generation Following Deaths of Mladić and Plavšić

The recent deaths of convicted war criminals Ratko Mladić and Biljana Plavšić have stirred painful memories for Bosniaks in Qatar whose families endured the 1992–1995 war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Survivors are actively educating their children about the Srebrenica genocide, the relatives lost, and the profound importance of pursuing justice over vengeance.

News of Biljana Plavšić's death on October 1, 2026, spread rapidly through the Bosnian community in Qatar via WhatsApp and Facebook, shortly after Ratko Mladić, the former Bosnian Serb army commander, died on August 27. Plavšić, a former Bosnian Serb political leader, had pleaded guilty to persecution as a crime against humanity and was sentenced to 11 years in prison. Mladić was serving a life sentence for genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity, notably for his role in the 1995 Srebrenica massacre where over 8,000 Bosniak men and boys were killed.

For many Bosniaks, these deaths evoked memories of lost loved ones, destroyed homes, and lives irrevocably altered by the conflict. For those in Qatar, the war's impact remains an integral part of family life, passed down through generations.

“When I heard about the deaths of Ratko Mladić and Biljana Plavšić, I did not feel happiness. What I felt was sadness. Not sadness for them, but sadness for everything they took from us,” shared Lajla Pjanić, a Bosniak residing in Qatar.

The Legacy of Genocide and Persecution

Mladić and Plavšić were central figures in the Bosnian Serb wartime leadership, responsible for the siege of Bosnian cities, detention of Bosniaks in camps, systematic rape, and the killing of prisoners. Plavšić pleaded guilty to persecution against Bosniaks, Bosnian Croats, and other non-Serbs in 37 municipalities. Mladić, dubbed the “butcher of Bosnia,” was convicted of orchestrating the 1995 Srebrenica massacre, Europe's worst atrocity since World War II, which resulted in the deaths of at least 8,000 Bosniak boys and men. His forces also shelled Sarajevo daily, killing 10,000 people. The International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) described the crimes as “amongst the most heinous known to humankind.” The Bosnian war claimed over 100,000 lives, with approximately 80% being Bosniaks, and displaced over two million people.

For many Bosniaks, including those who grew up with the war's enduring consequences, the deaths of these figures were more than just the passing of war criminals.

“When I heard of Mladić’s death, my first thought was of Srebrenica in 1995, when we waited to learn whether our relatives had survived, only to later discover that their remains had been found,” said Ramo Smajić, another Bosniak in Qatar.

“The Last Time I Said Goodbye to My Father”

Ramo Smajić was five years old when the war began. His family fled their home in Bratunac amid the aggression of Bosnian Serb forces. While hiding in forests, his mother was forced to abandon a bag containing family photographs and valuables when they came under fire. His father, Fajko Smajić, along with uncles Sadik and Sabit Hasanović, later decided to return towards Srebrenica to help defend the enclave.

Ramo vividly recalls his father's parting words to his mother at the bus station in Tuzla: “Take care of our children. Don’t separate them. Love them equally. Maybe we’ll see each other, maybe we won’t. But, if God wills it, I hope we will see each other again.” His father never returned.

In 2002, the discovery of human remains in a mass grave confirmed his father's death. “It was my father’s. I still remember how much we were crying,” Ramo shared. His father's remains were found in Kamenica, a village known as the “Valley of Mass Graves,” where thirteen mass graves containing victims of the Srebrenica genocide were discovered. His father was killed while attempting to escape towards Tuzla after Srebrenica fell in July 1995. Ramo also found the remains of his grandfather, two uncles, and many other relatives.

Today, Ramo lives in Qatar with his wife and three children. Every summer, he takes his children to their grandfather's grave at the Potočari Memorial Centre. There, he teaches them Bosnian prayers, ensuring they learn about the grandfather they never met through his memories. “My older daughter, Asya, is 10, and she knows what happened to our people in the war — that we were driven from our home and that our loved ones were killed,” he says. “When she sees his pictures, sometimes I see the tears in her eyes.” Ramo aims for his children to understand their history, not to inherit hatred, but to remember why many Bosniaks never returned home. “The names Biljana Plavšić and Ratko Mladić remind me of monsters responsible for rape, murder and executions. You cannot believe that human beings could order so many people to be killed and so much suffering to be inflicted,“ Ramo concluded.

“Searching for My Mother in Strangers’ Faces”

Lajla Pjanić spent the early war years as a refugee in Croatia with her grandmother Adila. She left Sarajevo in 1992, aged three, in one of the last Red Cross convoys before borders closed. Her brother was sent to Austria, while her parents remained in Bosnia. Her grandfather later joined them in Croatia from Mostar.

Life in Croatia was challenging. “Grandma and Grandpa, may they rest in peace, made sure we had everything we needed. My grandma cleaned and ironed, doing everything she could just to feed us, and we also received a little humanitarian aid,” Lajla recalled.

As a child, Lajla was acutely aware of her mother's absence, often seeking her in the faces of strangers. “Many women reminded me of my mother. I would approach them and ask them to be my mother,” she says. Years as a refugee, separated from her parents, profoundly shaped her childhood and family relationships.

More than three decades later, Lajla still grapples with unanswered questions: “What would my relationship with my mother be like if the war had never happened? Who would we all have become if our lives had not been interrupted by violence? What would Bosnia look like today if people like Mladić and Plavšić had never spread the ideas that caused so much suffering?” The deaths of Plavšić and Mladić offered no closure, unable to change the past or reclaim lost years. It took five more years before Lajla was reunited with her mother.

Learning About Genocide in Qatar: Why Did They Kill Us?

Every Saturday, Bosniak children in Doha attend classes at the Bosnian School, where they learn the Bosnian language, culture, traditions, and history. The 1992–1995 war and the Srebrenica genocide are key topics, helping children born far from Bosnia connect with their heritage and understand how loss shaped their families. Children like Amel, Ahmed, Hamza, Lejla, and Amila carry the names of family members killed, a way for parents to preserve legacies and memories.

“Wherever in the world they may live, our children need to know their roots and understand their past, because for centuries, Bosniaks have had to defend their right to exist, their homeland, and their own language,” said Anida Višća, a teacher at the Bosnian School in Doha. The children often ask difficult questions: “Why did they hate us? Did we do something wrong? Why did they kill our people?”

“Our children need to understand that although these individuals are gone, the ideology rooted in hatred toward our people still lives on,” Anida explained. “Regardless of how difficult it is to explain these things to children, it must be done.“ The children are learning that those killed in the genocide were part of their community, sharing their identity as Bosniaks. “For Bosniaks in Qatar, Bosnia and elsewhere, the consequences of the war remain part of family life, passed from parents to children. “Above all, our children must understand that revenge has no place in our vocabulary. We seek justice, not revenge,” Anida concludes.