Perspectives From Bosnia For Divided America
by Bryan Carey
The parallels between the United States and Bosnia, a deeply divided post-war society, are many and alarming. Living in Bosnia and learning from and working with Bosnian peacemakers has given me a different vantage point to reflect about the challenges and divisions in the United States, now more than ever. I’m continuing to learn from local peace activists about how Bosnians think about group dynamics, the challenges that each ethnic and religious group face in Bosnia, and how they deal with the past in constructive ways to move together toward a better, shared future.
After the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and Rayshard Brooks, and as protests and work for racial justice continue, I’ve talked to quite a few American friends who are grieving the injustice they see, confused by the scattered media reports and the finger pointing, and unsure about how to respond. Among my Christian friends, many are reexamining how we can live out our faith following Jesus, the Prince of Peace who was a friend of the marginalized and outcast.
So, what are some things that Bosnians are teaching me that might be relevant to what’s happening in the States?
“People in Bosnia are part of a group, and we recognize that. Since we’re part of our group, we’re always carrying our history.”
~Mali Koraci (Small Steps) local peacemaking intern
In Bosnia, locals operate with a collective mentality, which means that people know they’re part of a group, they know that group’s history, and they understand that there are both individual and group dynamics at play in any situation.
In America, I was trained to think in individualistic terms, which often causes me to be blind to or overlook group dynamics. I continually need to recognize this blind spot and work to see group dynamics that have occurred historically and continue today.
“It’s impossible to work on peace building without dealing with the past.”
~Ivana Franović in the Center for Nonviolent Action’s handbook, Reconciliation?! Training Handbook for Dealing with the Past
In Bosnia, each group glorifies its own golden era, but that glorified past includes the oppression of other groups, which is often forgotten or actively negated. The Bosnians who work for peace are those who do the hard work to learn about, lament, and repent of the crimes and oppression their own group has committed. They do this so that it becomes possible to cultivate trust across group boundaries and create a society that allows for everyone who lives in it to flourish.
In the United States, I grew up largely unaware of my family’s or community’s history. To the extent that I was made aware, I learned a glorified version of my people’s past. Yes, our white European ancestors did work hard to build new lives in a new land, but the opportunity and resources to do that came at the expense of indigenous Americans and African slaves. Even though I might have known of the suffering of other groups, I assumed that the specific events that caused their suffering were too long ago to really matter or do anything about. I never allowed it to sink in that the flourishing of my white ancestors was built on hundreds of years of systematic oppression of indigenous Americans and African-Americans by Americans of European descent.
Bosnian peacemakers have reinforced the fact that I am unable, as are other white folks like me, to engage in any sort of real peace building work now unless I do the hard work to understand my country’s history from the position of oppressed groups. Working for genuine peace requires that I learn my history, starting with the larger historical dynamics, but also personalizing this as much as possible by understanding my own family’s legacy. I’m trying to deepen my own understanding, recognize that this impacts real families and individuals, and to learn the spiritual practice of lament that allows me to turn mourning into a positive response. As I do that internal work, it’s becoming easier for me to see the patterns of communal relationships and the institutional systems and norms that are ingrained into the fabric of U.S. society, overtly disadvantaging people of color in the past, and continuing to do so in more covert ways. That understanding also helps me learn how to respond and take action.
“Each group controls the system in places in which they are the majority.”
~A Bosnian friend who works for the Center for Nonviolent Action
Bosnians know that systems work better for them when they stay in places where they are part of the majority. For example, when Croat Catholics make up the majority of a city, they don’t notice the systems that keep their city operating (police, courts, government administration, education system, etc.), because those systems are working for them, the majority. When any individual is part of the minority group, however, it becomes obvious how systems are unjust and actually work against their group. Their history classes may focus on their group as the oppressor while vindicating the majority group. Justice and reparations will often be denied to victims of war crimes done by the majority group. The system does not function in an equal way for them, because it is designed through both laws and uneven application of laws to advantage the majority group. Individuals in that majority group might be kind and loving people, but still the systems are broken, and personal friendship and personal acts of charity do little for the sake of justice if the systems are ignored.
In the States, it’s easy as a white person to think that the systems work well because they work for me, as an individual. However, the very fact that the systems are working seamlessly for me can blind me to the ways in which systems don’t work for others. Unless I spend a lot more time listening to minority and marginalized groups, their experiences of injustice will never make sense to me. Unless I listen to and believe groups who have been historically oppressed, I cannot work to create better systems. The real work of the majority population isn’t merely to be kind to minorities; it’s to create systems that protect the rights of minority and marginalized groups and to work for the benefit of all and allow everyone to flourish together.
Living as a minority takes work, produces stress, and creates trauma.
For Bosnians, it requires a lot of extra energy and work to live as a minority among another dominant group, and it takes great courage to explain minority perspectives to a dominant group.
For a white American audience, it might be more relatable to consider my family’s experience as Americans living in Bosnia. We are trying to communicate using a new language with different expressions, understand others’ expectations of us when we host meals or events, learn how to engage in disagreement or conflict in ways that are culturally appropriate, and work with different understandings of authority, power, team dynamics, and expectations in relationships. I love the experience, but many people living abroad feel significant stress because of such cross-cultural dynamics. From friends and family in the States, I receive a lot of sympathy and encouragement for my efforts to do peace work across linguistic and cultural boundaries for this very reason.
As an American in another country, however, I carry all the benefits of privilege, wealth, status, and power that come by being a white American. My experience does not begin to compare to the experiences of people of color in the States – I carry my privilege, status, and power with me wherever I go. If you would have empathy for my experience navigating cross-cultural dynamics in Bosnia, then please take a moment to empathize with the experiences of people of color in the States.
In the States, black and brown people don’t have the choice to stop engaging in cross-cultural work. In fact, their stress is many times greater, because rather than being forgiven for mistakes and praised for success (as those who just moved to a new country might be), they’re often perceived as threatening or assumed to be guilty in their own country and community. As they’re taught from an early age, they must send subtle cultural cues to those around them that they are not dangerous. Black kids are taught about how to make themselves appear less threatening to police officers during routine traffic stops. They’re taught to keep their hands out of their pockets when entering a grocery store. That effort is tiring and constant. It can even be traumatizing for children to learn these lessons at such young ages, knowing they may be seen as threatening or even be in danger if they don’t learn them well. But they endure this stress every day, just because of the color of their skin. The livelihoods and lives of people of color depend on abiding by what is culturally acceptable to the majority white society.
Getting started: listening to stories, learning, and following their lead
In order to start empathizing with the experiences of minority groups in Bosnia, peace activists must listen to and believe the real experiences of those living as minorities. In the same way, in the States we need to have relationships with others in which we’re regularly listening to and believing their experiences.
That said, it takes a lot of emotional work for people of color to share their experiences with us, especially when they’ve been under constant stress living as disadvantaged minorities their entire lives. So we can’t just expect a new black or brown friend to share their life story and their pain with us. Instead, we can do our work to understand first and in an ongoing way though resources that are already publicly available. As we’re on the learning journey, then we can accompany one another and work together without putting even more of a load on black and brown folks that they be our teachers. We want to listen to people of color and follow their lead, but we also want to do our own homework. As we grow in our understanding, we can then begin to participate in tangible work for change.
