As we reflect on the tragedy of the Bosnian War, two horrific events are likely to stand out in the minds of many people. Firstly, the massacre in July 1995 of more than 8,000 Bosnian Muslims, mainly men and boys, in and around the town of Srebrenica by Serb units under the command of General Ratko Mladic – a genocide described by the Secretary-General of the United Nations as the worst crime on European soil since the Second World War. And secondly, the Siege of Sarajevo for almost four years from April 1992 to February 1996, during which an estimated 10,000 people were killed or went missing, including over 1,500 children.
In previous writings, I have referred to the way in which Serbian orientalists had exploited the extensive media exposure they enjoyed in Serbia to differentiate, isolate and demonise the Muslim community in the Balkans. They did so by stereotyping and labelling all Muslims as ‘Islamic fundamentalists’, and by setting and emphasising cultural markers that focused on Islam and Muslims as alien, threatening, culturally and morally inferior, or perversely exotic.
At this time, when anti-Muslim bigotry is increasingly mainstream in Western societies, we should not forget the stark warning of Norman Cigar that by bending ‘scholarship’ and blending it with political rhetoric, those Serbian orientalists defined Islam and the local Muslim community in such a way as to contribute significantly to making genocide acceptable.
Important as such vigilance is, my purpose in this essay is not to dwell on the causes of the Bosnian war, nor to over-emphasize any parallels between the stereotyping of Muslims in the Balkans and our own society but, twenty years on, to draw out a message of hope and healing. My essay in June 2008 had opened with dire examples of Islamophobia and the wider culture of shallowness, misrepresentation and toxic cynicism in the media, but its title, ‘Embracing Optimism: Becoming a Creative Minority in the Media’, expressed its higher objective. ‘The message is simple’, I concluded at that time. We should ‘embrace an optimistic attitude which fosters the belief that change for the better is possible and that we can contribute to it. This is not a vacuous optimism teetering on vain hopes, but a solid and productive optimism built on the enduring solutions generated by a culture of participation, goodwill and, above all, adhering to the highest principles and values of our faith.’
And to that list, I want to add now the healing power of art and music, for this was something I observed for myself in my own inspirational encounters in Sarajevo after the war.
The inspirational spirit of Bosnian musicians had been most famously exemplified by Vedran Smailovic, known as the Cellist of Sarajevo, who regularly played his cello in ruined buildings during the siege. A striking picture of him playing amidst the ruins of Sarajevo’s National Library in 1992 caught the imagination of people around the world. He also played at funerals during the siege, even though funerals were often targeted by snipers.
Another example of the artistic transformation of weapons of war was the fine engraving of shell cases by gifted Bosnian metalworkers – a modern interpretation, if you like, of turning swords into plowshares.
I first went to Sarajevo myself in 1998 for the opening of the exhibition of artworks by my friend Ahmed Moustafa at the Umjetnicka galerija in Sarajevo. The exhibition was entitled ‘Where the Two Oceans Meet’ (gdje se dva moral srecu) and had originally been held earlier in the year at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome, the first exhibition by a Muslim artist in the precincts of the Vatican. It honoured the theme of art as a means of fostering mutual respect and understanding between different cultures and peoples. It was particularly appropriate that the Sarajevo exhibition was opened by President Izetbegovic, who did so much to underline the common heritage of Islam and the West.
During my stay, I was introduced to the Director of the Primary Music School in Ilidza and saw for myself the damage inflicted on the school by Serbian forces during the siege of Sarajevo. Inspired by his story, and realizing the tremendous importance of cultural reconstruction as a means of raising the spirits and expressing the soul and unique identity of the Bosnian people, I resolved that when I returned to England, I would initiate an appeal for charitable donations to replace some of the musical instruments which had all been pillaged or destroyed during the occupation of the school. The only unusable vestige of the former resources of the school was a charred grand piano left behind as a symbol of cultural destruction and the demoralization it brings.
Starting as the special focus of the charitable work of the school in the southwest of England where I worked as Director of Studies, the appeal rapidly developed into a national project, the core of which was a nationwide ‘Scaleathon’ initiated by Topwind, a leading music shop in London, involving 7,000 children playing sponsored scales during music lessons. With the substantial funds raised from this exercise (highly popular, as you can imagine, with music teachers!) and other events, including concerts, we were able to purchase over forty new musical instruments, including pianos, drum kits, accordions, clarinets, flutes, recorders, guitars, violins and cellos. More were kindly donated by children and parents of the school. All the instruments were flown free of charge to Split in Croatia by RAF Brize Norton, and collected by a contingent from British (SFOR) forces based in Sarajevo. A complete PA system was also included. Most symbolically, a new grand piano was purchased and transported to the school from Germany.
In the autumn of 1999, the project reached its climax with a televised presentation and concert at the music school in Ilidza in the presence of the Bosnian Minister of Education and Culture, the British Ambassador, the Commander of British forces in Sarajevo, and a large audience. But just as the heart of the project was the work of British children in amassing thousands of individual donations, so the heart of the presentation event was the presence of 400 children, all pupils or former pupils of the school (with war orphans amongst them) who came from all over Bosnia and stood along the ruined walls of the gutted concert hall in the evening twilight. They touched our hearts most deeply as they sang ‘na rata ne bude’ (let there be no war). There was a special presentation of a new accordion to a talented young orphan musician, and we were also able to announce that there were sufficient funds left over to begin the reconstruction of the gutted concert hall. It was, all in all, the most moving event I have ever been privileged to attend.
It was deeply symbolic, too, that I was presented with an artillery shell casing, most beautifully engraved with pictures of a mosque, a church and a synagogue, delicately interwoven with engraved flowers, to take back to my school. To this day, it is exhibited at the entrance of the recital hall, and is a reminder not only of the remarkable way in which young musicians in one country helped to heal the wounds of those in another, but also of the peaceful co-existence of different faith communities for which Sarajevo was historically celebrated. How fitting it is that young musicians in one country stretch out a helping hand to young musicians in another, for music is a universal language which knows no boundaries, just as the natural openness, friendliness and generosity of children is a lesson to us all.
Since that time, the Director of the Primary Music School has founded various ensembles, the most recent of which is the Sultan Mehmed Fatih ensemble, founded eight years ago, composed of up to 200 children and their teachers from the school. This is a multi-faith ensemble dedicated to singing the spiritual music of Islam. The ensemble has travelled all over the world, held numerous concerts, and a small group has performed in London at the Sacred Voices Music Village Festival. I am told that they eventually gave a big concert in Istanbul for the Turkish president and other state officials.
It is important to mention one major educational priority highlighted by the project, and that is the inclusion of charitable work in its widest sense within the educational experience offered to young people, whether in the home, school or community.
The Qur’an calls people of faith to be true to their ‘covenants’, which include the covenants between God and man, between man and his own soul, and between the individual and his fellow-men, thus embracing the entire range of man’s moral and social responsibilities. Charity as an expression of philanthropic principles is not therefore a matter of convenience, calculation or expediency, nor should it be confined within the orbit of one community, but is an absolute sacred trust (amana), which demands a proactive sense of stewardship (khilafa), outreach, social responsibility, and good works (salihat).Charitable work in the service of wider society and humanity as a whole is surely integral to the ethos and practice of authentic Islamic education.
One of the most effective ways to engage the whole being of anyone is to involve them in service to others. Involvement in active charitable work which brings together different communities, including faith communities, is immensely enriching to all. Recipients obviously benefit in many ways, but the givers also benefit immeasurably because of what they learn about the human spirit, the joy of selfless giving without hope of reward, the development of compassion and empathy, direct insight into the way of life and beliefs of others, and an understanding of the roots of true happiness. Young people are hungering for involvement of this kind, because it is part of their innate humanity, and it is for all of us to provide them with a practical context for its expression.