Besa IsmailiThree decades have passed since the genocide in Srebrenica, three decades since over 8,000 Bosniak Muslim men and boys were systematically executed, while international forces, under a UN mandate, stood by, disabled to act.
Though long delayed, the 2024 UN General Assembly resolution recognising July 11 as the International Day of Remembrance for the Victims of the Srebrenica Genocide marked an important, yet symbolic, step toward truth-telling.
It seeks to institutionalise memory, counter persistent denial, and affirm the gravity of the atrocity.
Yet symbolism alone cannot substitute justice.
The deeper and more troubling legacy goes beyond the immediate trauma: it lies in the enduring global pattern of denial, historical distortion, and selective justice.
This pattern has repeatedly failed and continues to fail the victims of genocide, whether in Gaza, Syria, Rwanda, or elsewhere.
By choosing which atrocities to acknowledge and which to ignore, the international community continues to perpetuate a cycle of silence and complicity that betrays those who have suffered the most.
And while Serbia and its allies rejected the resolution under the guise of defending national dignity, the troubling question remains: how long will those responsible for genocide be allowed not only to escape accountability, but also to lead the charge in denying it?
The case of Kosovo
The Srebrenica genocide was part of a wider campaign of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia, perpetrated by Bosnian Serb forces and supported by Milosevic’s regime in Serbia.
Just a few years later, the same regime exported this violence to Kosovo, where more than 13,000 people were killed, most of them Albanian civilian, around twenty thousands of women raped, and over one million expelled from their homes in just three months.
Despite the scale and intensity of this campaign, what happened in Kosovo has never been formally recognised as genocide.
And in that omission lies a dangerous precedent: one where truth becomes negotiable, while justice becomes a tool of political convenience.
Across regions marked by the same genocidal violence, survivors of wartime atrocities, particularly sexual violence, remain divided, their pain contained within national or local boundaries.
Despite enduring similar patterns of brutality, there is a striking lack of connection, solidarity, or shared platforms for healing and justice.
The trauma experienced by survivors in places like Bosnia and Kosovo echoes with haunting familiarity, yet these echoes remain unheard beyond their immediate contexts.
There is no transnational network of support, no unified voice to confront impunity or challenge the silence that protects perpetrators.
Instead, survivors are left in isolation, their suffering fragmented by borders, politics and the absence of a collective will to acknowledge and address the full scope of these crimes.
This fragmentation undermines the potential for solidarity, allowing denial and injustice to persist across the region. Consequently, this disunity is not just a tragedy, but a strategic failure.
While victims remain divided, the perpetrators of genocide and their political backers are remarkably coordinated.
From Belgrade to Moscow, from the denial of Srebrenica to the minimisation of Kosovo, a clear geopolitical alignment has emerged. They veto resolutions, influence international tribunals, and actively shape narratives to rewrite history.
Take, for example, the Kosovo Specialist Chambers in The Hague, where former president Hashim Thaci, speaker Kadri Veseli, and other leaders of the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) are being prosecuted.
While established under the banner of justice and accountability, the court has increasingly drawn criticism for its perceived imbalance and the political dynamics surrounding its work.
Many view its proceedings as shaped, directly or indirectly, by narratives sponsored by Serbia, a state that continues to deny responsibility for wartime atrocities, fails to implement the Brussels Agreements on the issue of the missing persons, engages in aggressive acts in Kosovo (Banjska case) and actively undermines justice efforts.
Such perceptions raise difficult questions about fairness, selectivity and the broader implications for post-conflict reconciliation in the region.
The irony is sharp and cruel: Serbia, a country found guilty of facilitating the Srebrenica genocide, is today trying to reshape the international narrative about Kosovo.
It has sponsored witnesses, built false accusations, and presented itself as a victim of the very wars it started.
Still awaiting justice
And still, the world remains largely silent. The international community, rather than confronting these contradictions, fragments the pain by recognising some while ignoring others.
Justice cannot continue to be weaponised in ways that equate aggressors with those who resisted annihilation.
No tribunal can cleanse the record of a state-facilitated genocide, nor can the prosecution of those who rose in spontaneous defence of their people serve as a substitute for holding the true architects of genocide accountable.
Justice must be inclusive and principled, not selective nor politicised. It must serve those who suffered, and not pacify those who continue to deny, distort, and evade responsibility.
It is deeply concerning that international legal institutions remain susceptible to geopolitical influence.
For global justice to be credible, these mechanisms must distinguish clearly between legitimate struggles for self-determination and acts of aggression and must focus their efforts on ensuring accountability for those truly responsible for war crimes.
The 30th anniversary of Srebrenica genocide must not become another symbolic ritual. It must be a turning point: a moment to link arms across communities, across borders, across histories of pain.
It must be the beginning of a new era of unity among victims, a powerful front against denial, and a clear demand that truth be respected, justice delivered, and history not be rewritten.
