Injustice Corrected

Speech of Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, President of the Russian Federation, on Monument Hill, Moscow, August 1, 2014 (source)

WW1 Memorial at Poklonnaya Gora, Moscow (source: Kremlin.ru)

Friends,

A century ago on this day, Russia found itself obliged to enter World War I. Today, we are unveiling this monument to its heroes – Russian soldiers and officers. We are unveiling the monument here on Poklonnaya Gora, a site that preserves our grateful memory of Russian military glory and of those who at various moments in our country’s history have defended its independence, dignity and freedom.

The World War I soldier and his comrades in arms have their place of honour here too. It was the fate of many of them to later fight again on the frontlines in the Great Patriotic War. These experienced veterans inspired and brought out the best in the young soldiers and passed on to them the traditions of military comradeship and brotherhood and the traditions of military honour.
The Russian army’s great values and the heroic experience of the generation who fought in World War I played a big part in our people’s spiritual and moral upsurge at that moment. This was a generation that was fated to go through not just the difficult trials of the first global world war, but also the revolutionary upheaval and fratricidal civil war that split our country and changed its destiny.

But their feats and their sacrifices in Russia’s name were forgotten for long years. World War I itself, which the rest of the world calls the Great War, was erased from our country’s history and was labelled simply ‘imperialist’.

Today, we are restoring the historical truth about World War I and are discovering countless examples of personal courage and military skill, and the true patriotism of Russia’s soldiers and officers and the whole of Russian society. We are discovering the role Russia played in that difficult and epoch-changing time for the world, especially in the pre-war years. And what we see reflects very clearly the defining features of our country and our people.

Whose Hatred, Really?

Last month I wrote about the Skull Tower, a unique monument to the Ottoman legacy in the Balkans. To recap briefly, it is a structure made of stone, mortar and skulls of nearly 1000 Serbs who died in battle against the Turks in May 1809, outside Niš. The Turks won the battle, but with heavy losses. Their commander, Hurşid Ahmed Pasha, had the Serbs' heads skinned, stuffed and sent to the Sultan as trophies. The skulls were built into a tower 15 feet tall, intended to strike fear into any other Ottoman subject contemplating rebellion.

The Serbs kept on fighting, though, and eventually won their freedom. In 1878, when Niš was liberated, the crumbling tower was enclosed in a chapel, and stands there today as a monument to both the Ottoman cruelty and the Serbs' determination to be free.

But that is not what you'll read in this July's National Geographic. In a story about Serbia so typical of everything the Western mainstream media has made up and repeated over the past oh, two decades or so, the photo of the Skull Tower describes it as a "shrine to the Serbs' hatred of foreign domination."

Not the love of liberty. Not the cruelty of the Ottomans. Not the bitter legacy of Islamic conquest. It doesn't matter that any and all of these would be true, because none of them are politically correct. Liberty is verboten these days. Ottomans must always be described only as tolerant, multi-cultural and "diverse." And Islam is a "religion of peace." Therefore, it follows that the Skull Tower must be a monument to Serb "hatred."

What rubbish.

Skull Tower

If there was just one thing I could show someone seeking to understand the Serbs, I would take them to a hill northeast of Niš (Ниш), and show them the Skull Tower.

Skull Tower, Nis, Serbia

Though Serbian medieval statehood was mortally wounded in the battle of Kosovo (1389), its last embers were smothered in 1459, as the conquering Ottoman Turks swept into Europe again following their conquest of Constantinople. For the next three centuries, Serbs lived under the Ottoman yoke. Some converted to save their lives and property. Some sough refuge in remote areas, or the Austrian and Hungarian borderlands. Others trudged on, bowed but not broken, all the while hoping for freedom.

Though there were previous attempts to liberate Serbia, none lasted very long until the rebellion led by Karađorđe (Карађорђе, Black George) in 1804, known as the First Serbian Uprising. Not until 1813 were the Turks able to end the rebellion - in blood, as usual.

In May 1809, at the height of the uprising, a force of Serb fighters was advancing on Niš, then an Ottoman stronghold. Told of the approach of a Turkish relief force, they dug in on the hills northeast of town. On May 31, the Turks attacked the redoubt on Čegar Hill and broke the Serb line. In the last desperate act of defiance, Serb commander Stevan Sinđelić (Стеван Синђелић) shot at the gunpowder barrels in the redoubt, blowing up himself and the rearguard but also the advancing Turks. This enabled the remaining Serbs to withdraw.

The Ottoman commander of Niš, serasker Hurşid Ahmed Pasha (a Christian from the Caucasus, enslaved as a child and sent into the Janissaries), offered a prize on the rebel heads, then had them skinned, stuffed, and sent to the sultan as trophies. Then he built a tower of brick and mortar, and mounted the flayed skulls in windows made for that purpose. The result was Skull Tower (Ћеле-кула), intended to strike fear into the Serbs.

Fifteen feet (4.65 m) tall, and about 13 feet long and wide, there were 56 rows of skulls on all four faces of the tower, 17 skulls in a row (for a total of 952). Initially the Turks guarded the tower closely, to prevent relatives from giving the skulls a Christian burial. Later on, however, they abandoned it to neglect and elements. It is said that between 1861 and 1864, Midhat-pasha wanted to dismantle the tower, but the local Turks thwarted him.

When Niš became a part of Serbia in 1878, construction began on the chapel that was to protect the tower from further erosion. The chapel was finalized in 1938, and restored in 1989. Of the skulls originally built into the tower, only 58 remain. A skull said to belong to Sinđelić is preserved separately, in a glass case.

Famous French poet, statesman and traveler Alphonse de Lamartine had passed through Niš in the early 1830s, and left this description of the tower:

"The sun was scorching. When I was about a league from the town, I saw a large tower rising in the midst of the plain, as white as Parian marble. I took the path which led to it... I sat down under the shade of the tower to enjoy a few moments' repose. No sooner was I seated than, raising my eyes to the monument, I discovered that the walls, which I supposed to be built of marble or white stone, were composed of regular rows of human skulls; these skulls bleached by the rain and sun, and cemented by a little sand and lime, formed entirely the triumphal arch which now sheltered me from the heat of the sun... In some places portions of hair were still hanging and waved, like lichen or moss, with every breath of wind. The mountain breeze, which was then blowing fresh, penetrated the innumerable cavities of the skulls, and sounded like mournful and plaintive sighs...

"My eyes and my heart greeted the remains of those brave men whose cut-off heads made the cornerstone of the independence of their homeland. May the Serbs keep this monument! It will always teach their children the value of the independence of a people, showing them the real price their fathers had to pay for it."

(from "A Pilgrimage to the Holy Land... Made during a Tour in the East in 1832-1833" Published in London, 1835, vol. 3, pp 105-106).

But as time went on, the world changed, and many things that should not have been forgotten were lost. Today, their own government tells the Serbs they should value comfort over freedom, material goods over dignity, pleasure over honor. In just the last twenty years, over a million Serbs have been forced from their homes and dispossessed. First forced into Communist-imposed borders, Serbia itself is now being partitioned anew, as its province of Kosovo was occupied by NATO in 1999 and declared an "independent" Albanian state in 2008. The very real suffering of Serbs in Ottoman times, during two German occupations in the 20th century, and in the wars of the 1990s, is routinely dismissed or minimized, even as Serbs are accused of committing wholly fabricated "genocides" against their neighbors, who somehow always happened to serve the conquering outsiders.

The Skull Tower is not just a reminder of the steep but necessary price of freedom. It is also a monument to the brutality of the supposedly "tolerant" and "multicultural" Ottoman Empire, and the horrific institution of devşirme that produced psychopaths like Hurshid Ahmed Pasha.

Those who seek to conquer the Serbs ought to take a long, hard look at this monument. The Turks once believed their dominion would last forever. But in 1815, another uprising began. By 1830, Serbia was an autonomous principality. In 1878 it was recognized as independent. And in 1912, the Ottoman Empire was chased out of the Balkans at long last.

So long as a people value freedom, they can either prevail or perish, but can never be conquered.

Gratitude

When the Izetbegovic regime picked a fight with the Bosnian Serbs fifteen years ago (April 6, 1992), one of the immediate results was a division of Sarajevo with roadblocks and barricades, with the part of the city controlled by Muslim militias effectively cut off from the rest of the country. Most stores were looted within weeks, courtesy of crime overlords who declared themselves "defenders" of the city - although they had copious help from local residents who figured (and correctly) that this was all the food they would see for a while.

Food began arriving into the city in June, when the airport re-opened under UN management. Thus began the Sarajevo airlift, which lasted longer than the Berlin one. Someone somewhere probably has a tally of all the food, medicine, blankets and plastic sheeting that UNHCR delivered to Sarajevo, and Bosnia in general. I can only say with the certainty of someone who's been there throughout the war that this aid kept people alive who would have otherwise starved. And not only civilians - because as soon as the food and supplies started arriving, the government set up an "Agency for reception and distribution" of aid, which would skim 60% or more of the rations for use by the government and the military.

One can only imagine the dire predicament of civilians trapped in wartime Sarajevo when MREs were considered gourmet food, usually sprinkled on top of rice, pasta or - on those rare days - beans. One of the staples of humanitarian aid rations was Icar - canned beef from somewhere in the EU which looked rather vile.

Well, as war and propaganda went on, soon the people inside the Muslim portion of Sarajevo began to grow a sense of entitlement. The food was nothing more than the world "owed" us, for failing to defend us from "aggression" and "genocide." How dared they send us ratty gray blankets, or vitaminized biscuits from 1968, pulled from stocks never used in Vietnam? Didn't they know we were Europeans, used to Italian shoes and German cars? The outrage!

Few, if any, stopped to think that without this food, those blankets, or the admittedly hideous-looking foil we used to cover up our shattered windows, we would have all frozen or starved to death in 1992. Or that the UNHCR was essentially the logistics command for the "Bosnian Army," enabling it to continue the war until Izetbegovic could get a territorial settlement he actually liked. Instead, we had people protest that the inconsiderate Europeans sent us this terrible beef...

Fifteen years after the "international community" saved us from starvation just in time, Reuters reports that an art organization has sponsored a monument to Icar beef (Reuters photo below).



"To the international community, the grateful citizens of Sarajevo," reads the inscription on the pedestal holding up the giant Icar can.

"It's witty, ironic and artistic," says Dunja Blazevic from the Center for Contemporary Art, which is behind the sculpture.

The popular urban myth from the war, recycled by Blazevic in her statement to Reuters, is that Icar beef was so vile even cats and dogs refused to eat it. It's certainly possible. But I've traveled a bit since, and Icar is hardly worse than what they serve in school cafeterias or fast-food places in the U.S.

No one in the world had the slightest shred of obligation or duty to send anything to the people of Bosnia, who democratically elected politicians that led the country into civil war. The responsibility for supplying and defending the civilian population was squarely on the government that declared independence - and that government failed at everything a government is supposed to do. Miserably. To cover that up, it constantly blamed the "international community." To the present day, hundreds of thousands of people in Bosnia believe "the world" had failed them, and that the West owes them something.

Thus the Icar monument. "Hey foreigners, how dare you send us non-gourmet food? We are the righteous victims, didn't you know?"

I wonder if those ingrates who made the sculpture, as well as those who will walk past it with an approving snicker, will ever realize that without that help, without those very cans of grade-Q beef, few of them would still be alive? The world owes us nothing. And we owe ourselves the truth.