From: xlli@silver.ucs.indiana.edu (xiao-lin li)
Subject: Bosnia Rape, What Could the World Do?
Organization: Indiana University
Date: Tue, 22 Dec 1992 05:18:33 GMT


The following is a horrible story article from NYT. It reads much
like what I read about "The Rape of Nainjing".

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

	Copied without permission from:
 	The New York Times OP-ED Sunday, December 13, 1992

	Rape After Rape After Rape

	ZAGREB, Croatia.  What is happening in Bosnia and Herzegovina to 
Muslim and Croatian women seems unprecedented in the history of war crimes.  
Women are raped by Serbian soldiers in an organized and systematic way, as a 
planned crime to destroy a whole Muslim population, to destroy a society's 
cultural, traditional and religious integrity.
	The numbers are chilling: In October, the Ministry of Interior of
Bosnia and Herzegovina estimated that 50,000 women and girls had been raped,
and many impregnated on purpose.  It is feared that since then the number has
risen even further.  The ministry collected and documented 13,000 cases.
	Journalists and feminists have interviewed women in refugee camps in
Croatia, and it is through their stories that the world has discovered the
tragedy.  In the civilized world rape is a crime.  Mass rape is a method of
genocide that should become a war crime and outlawed in all international
conventions.  The lives of tens of thousands of women have been destroyed; the
world owes them at least that.
	Here are accounts by three women.  "E.'s" account will appear in the
January-February issue of Ms. magazine.  -SLAVENKA DRAKULIC

	Z.N., age 40.
	As soon as Chetniks [Servs] came into our city, they selected women,
children and the old people; men were taken to a concentration camp with an
excuse that they were mobilized.  They put hundreds of us in a school in Doboj
and they turned it into a kind of camp.  Our Serbian neighbors locked us in.  I
knew many; they used to visit our house.  As soon as we entered a camp,
"marticevic" [followers of Milan Martic, a Serbian leader] came in with guns
and selected younger women and girls.  They put them in the halls and told the
Chetniks to do with the women what they pleased.  
	There was silence.  Then the crazy, dirty, stinking, Chetniks jumped at
the women like animals; they tore off their clothes, pulled their hair, cut
their breasts with knives.  They'd cut the belly of the women who wore the
traditional Muslim baggy trousers.  Those who screamed would be killed on the
spot.
	In front of a few hundred prisoners they raped and tortured women and
girls for days.  It was unbearable to watch girls being raped in front of their
fathers.  In the evening, after heavy drinking, the Chetniks would come in the
hall with lamps.  Stepping on us, they would look for girls, not older than 12,
13.
	The girls cried, holding on to their mothers.  As they were taken,
pieces of their mother's clothes remained in their hands.  While doing that,
the Chetniks would shoot at us.  Later they would leave the girls' dead bodies
in the hall, so we had to see them.  We cried until morning.  Then they would
throw the bodies in the river.
	Every day the same picture was repeated; they would rape and kill in 
front of hundreds of us.  Once a young woman with a baby was taken in the 
middle of the hall.  It was in June.  They ordered her to take off her clothes.
She put the baby on the floor next to her.  Four Chetniks raped her; she was 
silent, looking at her crying child.  When she was left alone, she asked if she
could breast-feed the baby.  Then a Chetnik cut the child's head off with a 
knife.  He gave the bloody head to the mother.  The poor woman screamed.  They 
took her outside and she never came back.  The biggest criminals in Doboj are 
Bosko Jeitic, Milenko Varnjes, Mico Tuca, the brothers Stankovic and Jorgovic.
	I was raped and tortured too, because they knew that I am a wife of a
leader of the Muslim party.  My neighbor tortured me the most, the one my
husband respected as his own brother.  By the end of June, Chetniks brought
another neighbor of ours and with a gun pointed at him they forced him to rape
a 14-year-old girl.  He stood trembling and stuttering with fear.
	Then he turned to a Chetnik he believed was a leader and said, "Don't
make me do it.  I have known her since she was born - her father and I drank to
her birth."  They beat him in front of us until he died.  It was an example to
the other Serbs that there is no pity, that one must do what leaders order them
to do.
	In August some prisoners were exchanged including me and my sons.  Many
women and girls who were pregnant remained in the camp.  They were transferred
to a hospital and fed twice a day because, as the Chetniks said, they had to
bear their offspring.

	E.N., age 14 and her mother.
	E.N: That commander was big, fat, dirty old guy.  He had gray hair with
a white tuft at his forehead.  He stank of brandy, really stank.  He had a mask
on.  He nodded toward me and ordered me angrily to stand up.  We went in one
room; my legs trembled, I couldn't walk at all.  He then pushed me but I
trembled terribly and inside me everything trembled.  I thought he would
slaughter me and I couldn't ever pray.  He asked me crudely if I had ever had
sex.  "Please, don't" - I beg him.  Then he pushed me, hit me and threw me on a
bed, tore off my dress and hit me again.  He put his hand over my mouth.  I
screamed again.  He hit me; he shouted at me.
	The mother:  I heard my child screaming.  She called for help.  I heard
his grunting, his howling.  My womb hurt as if someone is pulling it out.  My
mind darkened, but there was nothing I could do.  My child was suffocating
under his fist.  I heard him: "Is it good, you dog?"  He was more and more
violent.  He repeated the same question until she nodded yes.  He asked if she
wants more.  I heard her pleading, "Please, don't."  He went out of the room 
and said angrily to me, "Don't let anyone touch the little one."
	In other rooms, my sister's daughters were raped in the same way. 
While this was going on, one Chetnik guarded me and my sister.  We found my
sister's dauther unconscious and naked.  My dress was torn apart and she had
visible injuries on her body.

	E., age 16.
	The massacre after the attack on my village had been the greatest
tragedy of my life.  I did not know then that destiny had something even worse
in store for me.
	Several Chetniks arrived.  One, a man around 30, ordered me to follow
him into the house.  I had to go.  He started looking for money, jewelry and
other valuables.  He wanted to know where the men were.  I didn't answer.  Then
he ordered me to undress.  I was terribly afraid.  I took off my clothes,
feeling that I was falling apart.  The feeling seemed under my skin; I was
dying, my entire being was murdered.  I closed my eyes, I couldn't look at him. 
He hit me.  I fell.  Then he lay on me.  He did it to me.  I cried, twisted my
body convulsively, bled.  I had been a virgin.
	He went out and invited two Chetniks to come in.  I cried.  The two
repeated what the first one had done to me.  I felt lost.  I didn't even know
when they had left.  I don't know how long I stayed there, lying on the floor
alone, in a pool of blood.
	My mother found me.  I couldn't imagine anything worse.  I had been
raped, destroyed and terribly hurt.  But for my mother this was the greatest
sorrow of our lives.  We both cried and screamed.  She dressed me. 
	I would like to be a mother some day.  But how?  In my world, men
represent terrible violence and pain.  I cannot control that feeling.