And the General went on to make a very wise observation: ‘Look, you're always wanting things to be clear and logical,’ he remonstrated with his seatmate. ‘And I do admire you for it, but you must for once try to think in historical terms. How can those directly involved in what's happening know beforehand whether it will turn out to be a great event? All they can do is pretend to themselves that it is! If I may indulge in a paradox, I'd say that the history of the world is written before it happens; it always starts off as a kind of gossip. So that people who have the energy to act are faced with a very serious problem.Footnote 1
Srebrenica, surprise attacks, and the call for strengthening intelligence capacities
It is one of the conclusions in the research report by the Netherlands Institute for War Documentation (NIOD) on the failed UN peacekeeping mission in Srebrenica that a supposed disdain for intelligence collection during peacekeeping operations within the UN organisation and the Dutch government prevented the possibility for an adequate response to the attack on Srebrenica.Footnote 2 This conclusion has been substantiated in a five hundred paged supplement to the official Dutch Srebrenica research report which was published in 2002Footnote 3 and in a book volume of the series Studies in Intelligence History published in 2003.Footnote 4 The author Cees Wiebes states that ‘since … none of those involved had prior knowledge of the assault, a “proper” response was ruled out right from the start. In this respect Srebrenica was an intelligence failure.’Footnote 5 According to the report, the attack on the enclave by Serb forces in July 1995 and the murder of ten thousand Bosnian Muslims came as a complete surprise to the soldiers of the Dutch battalion (Dutchbat) and to the UN Protection Force (UNPROFOR).Footnote 6 At a conference on peacekeeping and intelligence Wiebes concluded that ‘a key lesson learned is that intelligence must be completely integrated into all aspects of the planning and execution of peacekeeping operation.’Footnote 7
The NIOD report on intelligence was hailed in the Guardian by Richard Aldrich as ‘one of the most sensational reports on western intelligence ever published’ and as a report which has ‘staggered’ officials by its findings and led to the resignation of the Dutch government.Footnote 8 Like Wiebes, Aldrich concludes that ‘the broader lessons of the intelligence report on Srebrenica are clear. Those who were able to deploy intelligence power, including the Americans and their enemies, the Bosnian Serbs, were both able to get their way. Conversely, the UN and the Dutch government were ‘deprived of the means and capacity for obtaining intelligence’ for the Srebrenica deployment, helping to explain why they ‘blundered in, and contributed to the terrible events there.’Footnote 9
Other reports on intelligence in the US and the United Kingdom leave us with a similar impression that an adequate intelligence supply could have saved the world from a lot of misery. Not only the attacks of the 11 September could have been prevented, but also, the war in Iraq would not have been fought on the assumption that it possessed weapons of mass destruction.Footnote 10 According to Pat Roberts, the chairman of the bipartisan US Senate Intelligence Committee, this misjudgement should not exclusively be attributed to the US intelligence services. He called it ‘a world-wide intelligence failure’.Footnote 11
As a result of those reports, a Cold War-like consensus has emerged holding that improved intelligence capacities will reduce the risk of surprise attacks and thus would make our world more predictable. Preventing war and especially terrorist surprise attacks have become a matter that seems too important to leave to politicians. Instead technology and intelligence should do the job. Moreover, the call for more and better intelligence is not only an issue when national security is at stake, but for UN peacekeeping missions as well.Footnote 12
The NIOD report on Srebrenica recognises that ‘intelligence failures are seldom caused by a lack of information. The cause more often lies in its processing and interpretation.’Footnote 13 However, for many analysts this acknowledgement leads them to conclude that strengthening the intelligence organisations and a better cooperation of the (inter)national intelligence services could solve those problems. Within the US, the UK, the UN, and in the Netherlands this view has resulted in a reform of those institutions including provisions for a greater financial and political independence. I will demonstrate, however, by a close reading of the NIOD research on intelligence and the predictability of the fall of the Srebrenica enclave that other more fundamental problems in relation to ideas of how the near future can be known are at stake. I will argue that in this case the conceptualisation of uncertain (near) futures closes off some important questions of responsibility for the political and military choices that were made before, during and even after the failed mission. I take the NIOD report and the fall of the UN ‘safe area’ as a case study, because it exemplifies a more general problem in the use of intelligence reports to master uncertain futures (and sometimes traumatic pasts). Moreover, some parallels can be identified in the legal reasoning of the War Crimes Tribunal in The Hague (ICTY) as well. The NIOD report is used by both the prosecution and the defence at the ICTY.
Surprise attack and/or genocide?
The NIOD researchers have reconstructed the events in Srebrenica as an ‘organised mass murder’ that was triggered by the ‘surprise’ of the outbreak of Muslim men from the enclave combined with an eagerness for revenge and a wish for ‘ethnic cleansing’.Footnote 14 They situate the mass murder in Srebrenica as the result of a contingency within the Bosnian war. It is concluded that ‘with hindsight there are no indications that the increased activity of the Bosnian Serb Army (VRS) in East Bosnia at the beginning of July 1995 was aimed at anything more than a reduction of the safe area Srebrenica and an interception of the main road to Žepa. The plan of campaign was drawn up on 2 July. The attack commenced on 6 July. It was so successful and so little resistance was offered that it was decided late in the evening of 9 July to press on and to see whether it was possible to take over the entire enclave.’Footnote 15 Similarly, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) concluded in its judgement on the crimes in Srebrenica that the VRS changed their military objective from ‘reducing the enclave to the urban area … to taking over Srebrenica town and the enclave as a whole’ on 9 or 10 July.Footnote 16 In this judgement – that also draws upon the rulings by the ICTY – the idea of a surprise attack is reconciled with the crime of genocide. This framing of the events carries great weight for judgements on predictability and responsibility for the events, especially since the crime of genocide depends on the issue of planning and intent and also includes a responsibility of prevention for the international community. It thus also carries great weight for the responsibility of the Dutch/UN peacekeeping operation and other relative outsiders of the international community since the level of uncertainty and thus unpredictability is related to the possibilities of an adequate response.
I will start my analysis of the framing of the violence in Srebrenica by scrutinising the NIOD research on intelligence and foreknowledge of the fall of the UN ‘Safe Area’ and then connect its epistemology to the argumentation in the rulings of the ICTY and the ICJ.
Objectifying intelligence
According to NIOD researcher Wiebes, intelligence is ‘a product that is manufactured in a (sometimes complicated) production process.’Footnote 17 With Jennifer Sims he defines intelligence as ‘information that is gathered, organised and analysed for players or decision-makers.’ Only when there is an ‘intelligence needs plan’ drawn up by the ‘consumers’ (the military and/or policymakers) and a specific production process by intelligence agencies, ‘information’ can become ‘intelligence’. With Gregory Copley, Wiebes emphasises that ‘intelligence is only intelligence when it is in the hands of the consumer.’Footnote 18 In this concept of intelligence, information is objectified as something that can be found and manufactured. This allows Wiebes to speak about intelligence on Bosnia that was, for example, delivered ‘in little chunks’ by the British foreign intelligence service, and – according to an unidentified British intelligence official – ‘incidentally, this intelligence was not of the highest quality; on a score of 1 to 5 this official would value the material at 2 or 3, or in other words: “Not really good stuff.”’Footnote 19
Carol Medlicott has noted that there are similarities between old forms of geography exploration and theories of intelligence. The idea of ‘intelligence collection’ resembles historical practises of geography as the collection of artefacts and specimens that could be brought back, categorised, and displayed. A distant reality is being explored, objectified, and systematised by experts.Footnote 20 However, as Medlicott states, ‘the geographic community is actively critiquing this mode of knowing; but the intelligence community is not.’Footnote 21 There is an interesting comparison to be made between texts produced through geographical exploration from the late sixteenth century through the end of the Enlightenment and Wiebes's text. These texts have in common that they make a largely unknown world visible for an educated Western audience.Footnote 22 Moreover, as Dorinda Outram states, ‘the essence of the explorer's claim was to be trusted as an eyewitness to a world that few or no others had seen.’Footnote 23
With Foucault, however, we can understand that these traditional representations are necessarily tied to systems of social control.Footnote 24 Analysis (observation, classification, systematisation, and the implicated hierarchies and norms) is a tool of discipline and therefore a political technology. Especially because intelligence is treated as a special category of knowledge closely related to secrecy, it leaves hardly any space for critical judgements, nor to alternative reconstructions of the research cases. In this respect, it is worth noting that the specific research conditions at the NIOD research centre (re)produced some similarity between the status of the NIOD researcher and that of a special agent. Bas Blokker reported in a Dutch newspaper:
In Amsterdam, the third floor of the NIOD–building has been fundamentally refurbished, which was ordered by the national security service (BVD) to be sure that state secrets stay secret. The researchers – whose antecedents have been screened by the BVD – all get office doors, which have been made heavier and are secured by a combination lock and a Judas hole. There are six safes with key and number locks for confidential documents, one for the server of the computers that are only connected with each other and have no open connection to the outside world, and one locker for copies of the computer files. There are also curtains in case anyone from the houses at the other side of the road tries to look inside … The group will work in silence. No interim publications. A NIOD employee who has nothing to do with the research tells how it works when he approaches an assistant of the Srebrenica team: ‘Don't look at the computer! Don't look at the computer!’Footnote 25
To be sure, it is not my main aim to judge the quality of intelligence research ‘products’ as good or bad in itself, but I do argue that the role of both the researcher and the intelligence agents should not be seen as being just pure means in the processing of information.
Classifying intelligence
At first glance, Wiebes's report seems to comprise contradictory findings. On the one hand he states that it was clear ‘that the abandonment of the enclaves had been the subject of discussion in diplomatic circles for some time, because it was generally acknowledged that they were not viable’Footnote 26 and
that in particular Srebrenica and Žepa would not be able to continue for long, in both humanitarian and military terms. The VRS [Bosnian Serb Army] had the areas in a stranglehold and the ‘neck’ was being squeezed ever tighter. Less and less humanitarian aid was arriving and the Serbs had a constant military advantage in equipment, firepower and troops, making a swift conquest a constant possibility.Footnote 27
On the other hand, Wiebes states that ‘no one expected that the enclave would be taken.’Footnote 28 This contradiction can exist because of his specific classification of collected intelligence, which turns out to be decisive for the outcome of the report. He distinguishes several types of intelligence differentiated by collection, technology, or aims. Two of those classifications are important for this analysis: ‘strategic intelligence’ and ‘tactical intelligence’. Wiebes gives the following definition of ‘strategic intelligence’:
Strategic intelligence can be defined as an activity undertaken by a state or community with the aim of ‘gathering, analysing, distributing and utilising information and know-how to further its own ends relative to other states, political groups, military powers, movements or individuals’. This is especially relevant in the phase before the direct involvement of the UN. In concrete terms, examples would be asking questions about the origin of the conflict, what is at stake and the strategic political objectives and interests of the international community. Strategic intelligence is often read by the senior-most policy makers charged with setting the objectives of grand strategy and ensuring that military force is exercised for purposes of achieving national interests.Footnote 29
According to Wiebes – who further ignores the ‘national interest’ aspect in his definition of strategic intelligence that might contradict the aims of UN peacekeeping – this information is needed during peacekeeping operations to assist in understanding the political and military situation between the warring parties. Wiebes does not give a definition of ‘tactical intelligence’. Instead he describes its aims:
Tactical intelligence is necessary in support of the troops on the ground, so that they are able to carry out peacekeeping activities, such as monitoring a ceasefire or a suspension of hostilities. Examples might include the locations of ceasefire lines, trenches, minefields and checkpoints. After all, the intentions and capabilities of all warring parties, especially in a local area, must be mapped out if the UN mission is to have any chance of success.Footnote 30
He says that ‘a distinction must be drawn between “strategic” and “tactical” prior knowledge. Strategic prior knowledge relates to the patterns of expectation extending over a long period. This knowledge existed in plenty, because the Bosnian Serbs had often declared that they would one day take over the enclaves.’ However, he adds, ‘an attack on the enclave was not expected’.Footnote 31 For this expectation we would have needed tactical prior knowledge, which is ‘the core of intelligence work’ and is ‘formed by tactical indications, such as troop concentrations, tanks, trucks and new trenches.’ If these tactical indications were not noted, then the attack on Srebrenica should be regarded as an ‘intelligence failure’.Footnote 32 As stated in the introduction of this article, Wiebes indeed concludes that no such knowledge was available and in that respect ‘Srebrenica was an intelligence failure.’Footnote 33 This is the reason that he can describe the fall of Srebrenica as a surprise attack.Footnote 34 This conclusion implicates that Dutchbat did not know what was happening when the enclave was attacked, neither did they have an idea of what was happening to the fifteen thousand men (and a few women) who fled the enclave.
Tactical foreknowledge as an instable category
The conclusion that there would have been no tactical foreknowledge of the attack on Srebrenica is being disputed by other sources. Wiebes mentions the fact that members of the Bosnian army (ABiH) state that they did give several warnings of a coming attack. However, he does not think that the ABiH is a reliable source, because the army was not equipped with enough personnel to make ‘near-real time intelligence’ possible. This means that it could have tapped the communication of the Bosnian Serbs, but it was not able to interpret the information in time. Wiebes states that a general of the ABiH
claimed that the messages were actually intercepted and analysed in real time. This assertion should, however, be treated with the utmost scepticism. If the Bosnian Muslims did have real-time Comint then why did they not use it? According to a US intelligence official, this would have been the ‘best PR stunt ever’, and the Bosnian Muslims could have screamed ‘bloody hell and murder’.Footnote 35
The way Wiebes puts this is cynical in relation to the events that followed, and also because of his conclusion that even if the ABiH had warned against a coming attack the information would have been dismissed because of a supposed ‘Cry Wolf mechanism’. The explanation of this ‘mechanism’ is that the ABiH had given false alarms so often that they were no longer believed by the UN troops.Footnote 36
Dutchbat soldier Schuurman, told the Dutch news magazine Vrij Nederland a different story. He said that the situation in Srebrenica deteriorated in March 1995 and
[t]he flight ban over the enclave was no longer respected by the Bosnian Serbs. However, the UN peaceforces did nothing. … In March I went for three weeks on leave to Zagreb. At Zvornik I saw Serb attack helicopters. As I could see them from the bus, the intelligence services must have been able to see them too, didn't they?Footnote 37
Schuurman informed his leaders about what he saw outside the enclave. ‘At the end of June, the Muslims already said the Serbs were going to attack. They had seen heavy artillery. Behind the hills we heard tanks driving. Trees were cut down, foxholes were being digged. We thought, “this is going wrong.”’Footnote 38
The denial of the presence of any foreknowledge is also heavily disputed by the investigative journalists of the Dutch VPRO radio programme Argos.Footnote 39 According to them the German former General Manfred Eisele, who had a high ranked position at the UN Department of Peace Keeping Operation in 1995, said that he had received reports that contained evidence of preparations by Serbian forces for an attack on Srebrenica. This evidence contained aerial photos that displayed reinforcements of the troops, the building of new bunkers and the construction of corridors in the woods by trees that had recently been cut down. Eisele also confirmed that options had been discussed in the UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations to counter a coming attack.Footnote 40 Moreover, journalist Andreas Zumach has demanded a rectification from the NIOD because Wiebes has dismissed the publications of this German journalist in which he states that he received intercepts of two US intelligence officers, which contained talks between Mladic and Belgrade. The US intelligence officers had told Zumach that it was known by mid-June that Serbian forces planned to attack Srebrenica.Footnote 41 In a recent BBC television documentary, Joris Voorhoeve, the minister of defence at the time that Dutchbat was deployed in Srebrenica, stated: ‘I know from intelligence sources that there were already Serb decisions to take the three Eastern enclaves among which was Srebrenica. Those decisions were taken probably in May and June – two months before.’ He further alleges that the international community knew the attack was coming: ‘Two security council members had knowledge that the attack was coming. I'm not saying they had knowledge the attack would be followed by mass murder. In any case they did not do anything with this knowledge.’Footnote 42
However, my argument here is not so much to point at the probable factual inaccuracies of the report. Instead, I want to point at a more profound conceptual problem that is produced by Wiebes's strategic/tactical classification of foreknowledge. The category of ‘tactical prior knowledge’ is narrowed down to such an extent that in fact any judgement of the situation and possible preparation for contingencies becomes pure speculation. Contextual knowledge is dismissed as strategic knowledge, which Wiebes defines as only relevant to ‘the objectives of grand strategy’. According to Wiebes, the outcome of strategic knowledge can not be considered to be ‘hard intelligence’ where the military should act upon.Footnote 43 However, as we can see in Wiebes's description of tactical knowledge, knowing the intentions of all parties is also part of this ‘hard intelligence’. Thus intentions are assumed to be closely tied to the other hard intelligence facts like (locations of ceasefire lines, trenches, minefields, checkpoints, etc.) and not to other, perhaps more political schemes of interpretation. Although Wiebes states that ‘it is the job of intelligence in a peacekeeping environment to penetrate the subterfuge of the various actors in order to comprehend their true intentions’, he modifies the possibility of gathering hard intelligence on intentions.Footnote 44 He quotes Clausewitz saying, ‘War is the realm of uncertainty; three quarters of the factors on which action in war is based are wrapped in a fog of greater or lesser uncertainty’ and he approves of Max Metselaar who suggests that we could not know what Mladic was up to, because he changed his plans constantly and often at the last moment.Footnote 45 ‘Obviously, what an aggressor does not yet know himself can hardly be expected to be determined by one's own intelligence sources. Even the enemy's military and political elite itself is often, until the last moment, not completely certain about many of these elements.’Footnote 46 The question here is, whether the ‘fog of war’ is created by the instability of Mladic (and others from the political and military elite) or by Wiebes's own narrow definition of tactical foreknowledge that disqualifies contextual knowledge as irrelevant for military action and thus destabilises any expectation of what could happen.
The politics of ‘hard knowledge’ and the (ir)relevance of political expressions
The crimes committed by Serb forces do fit in a pattern of violence in what was openly called the ‘ethnic cleansing’ of Bosnia. The media and others have reported widely about this. Wiebes's perspective on the violence diverts attention from the fact that as early as March 1993 Srebrenica's existence was completely at the mercy of Serb forces that were strangling the enclave. At the time, a UN mission reported to the Security Council that the short range perspectives for Srebrenica were that the town was practically under siege with Serb forces controlling access to it and that inhuman conditions prevailed in the enclave with potentially catastrophic consequences.Footnote 47 It reported that Srebrenica had become the ‘equivalent of an open jail’, and that the refusal of Serb forces to allow medical assistance together with the cutting of the water supply and electricity had put into effect ‘a slow-motion process of genocide.’Footnote 48 Even though Resolution 819 had declared the city a safe area, the UN mission reported that the actual situation did not correspond to either the spirit or the intent of the resolution.Footnote 49 As noted in the Security Council report of 1993, the ‘deliberate interdiction by Bosnian Serb paramilitary units of humanitarian assistance convoys’ constituted according to Resolution 819 ‘a serious violation of international humanitarian law.’Footnote 50 Moreover, the commission reported about a ‘pattern of hostilities by Bosnian Serb paramilitary units against towns and villages in Eastern Bosnia’ and ‘continued deliberate armed attacks and shelling of the innocent civilian population.’Footnote 51
Several other examples of the planning for the violence in Srebrenica has been brought before ICTY and ICJ by the prosecution. The ICJ notes in its judgement that
[t]he Applicant contends that the planning for the final attack on Srebrenica must have been prepared quite some time before July 1995. It refers to a report of 4 July 1994 by the commandant of the Bratunac Brigade. He outlined the ‘final goal’ of the VRS: ‘an entirely Serbian Podrinje. The enclaves of Srebrenica, Žepa and Goražde must be military defeated.’ The report continued: ‘We must continue to arm train discipline, and prepare the RS Army for the execution of this crucial task – the expulsion of Muslims from the Srebrenica enclave. There will be nor retreat when it comes to the Srebrenica enclave, we must advance. The enemy's life as to be made unbearable and their temporary stay in the enclave impossible so that they lean en masse as soon as possible, realising that they cannot survive there’ … The Applicant sees the ‘final goal’ described here as ‘an entirely Serbian Podrinje’, in conformity with the objective of a Serbian region 50 km to the west of the Drina river identified in an April or a May 1991 meeting of the political and State leadership of Yugoslavia.Footnote 52
The ICJ decided that this report was not significant, as ‘the Court observes that the object stated in the report, like the 1992 Strategic Objectives, does not envisage the destruction of the Muslims in Srebrenica, but rather their departure. The Chamber did not give the report any particular significance.’Footnote 53
In March 1995, Radovan Karadžić, the president of Republica Srpska, issued a directive to the Bosnian Serb Army concerning the long-term strategy for the Srebrenica enclave. In this directive, known as Directive 7, it was specified that the Bosnian Serb Army was to:
complete the physical separation of Srebrenica from Žepa as soon as possible, preventing even communication between individuals in the two enclaves. By planned and well-thought out combat operations, create an unbearable situation of total insecurity with no hope of further survival or life for the inhabitants of Srebrenica.Footnote 54
Strangling the enclave was also part of the plan:
The relevant State and military organs responsible for work with UNPROFOR and humanitarian organisations shall, through planned and unobtrusively restrictive issuing of permits, reduce and limit the logistics support of UNPROFOR to the enclaves and the supply of material resources to the Muslim population, making them dependent on our good will while at the same time avoiding condemnation by the international community and international public opinion.Footnote 55
On 31 March, Directive 7.1 was signed by the Bosnian Serb Army commander Ratko Mladić in which he ordered active combat operations around the enclave.Footnote 56 By mid 1995, the humanitarian situation of the Bosniacs in the enclave was catastrophic, just as it was envisaged in the decree.Footnote 57
To be sure, the Genocide Convention specifies that genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical or religious group, as such:
a. Killing members of a group;
b. Causing seriously bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
c. Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
d. Imposing measures intended to prevent birth within the group;
e. Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.
Especially point c seems an adequate description of Karadžić's plan before the enclave was overrun. Nevertheless, the Trial Chamber of the International Criminal Tribunal on the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY ) considered Directive 7 (and Directive 7.1) insufficiently clear to establish that those who issued those directives had genocidal intent, concluding instead that the genocidal plan crystallised at a later stage.Footnote 58
Both the ICTY and the ICJ have judged that (only) the events after the fall of the enclave (the mass executions and other killings committed from 13 July onwards) can be considered to be genocide. The ICJ judgement explains that ‘the acts of genocide need not be premeditated and the intent may become the goal later in an operation.’Footnote 59
According to Edina Bećirević ‘most Hague investigators and prosecutors do not see genocide as a social and political process, but rather as a one-off military action.’Footnote 60 This seems to be the case in Wiebes's report as well. Bećirević points at the inflammatory remarks that Karadžić made during the initial phase of the conflict. In October 1991 he spoke at the Bosnian-Herzegovinan Parliament, which had been debating a referendum on the independence from Yugoslavia. Karadžić gave the following warning, which was broadcast on television: ‘Do not think you will not lead Bosnia and Herzegovina into hell and the Muslim people into possible annihilation, as the Muslim people cannot defend themselves in case of war here.’Footnote 61 Bećirević also points at Krajisnik who presided over a parliament whose members used genocidal rhetoric in their normal day-to-day speech.Footnote 62
The Bosnian American fiction writer Aleksandar Hemon has called Karadžić ‘genocide's epic hero’. He describes how Karadžić (a former poet and psychiatrist) attuned his performances to the heroism of the grand epic poetry of Serbhood. In this tradition Petar Petrovic Njegos's poem ‘The Mountain Wreath’ (‘Gorski vijenac’) stands out as ‘the foundational text of Serbian cultural nationalism.’Footnote 63 In the lines of this poem – which is according to Hemon, familiar to nearly every Serbian child and adult – the central figure, Montenegrin Bishop Vladika Danilo ‘recognises that the total, ruthless extermination of the Muslims is the only way: “Let there be endless struggle,” he says. “Let there be what cannot be.” He will lead his people through the hell of murder and onward to honour and salvation: “On the grave flowers will grow/ For a distant future generation.”’Footnote 64
However, these political expressions and images and their bearing on the political future of Bosnia do not fit in the framing of ‘relevant facts’ for the foreseeability of the violence in Srebrenica by the ICTY and the ICJ, nor does it in the framing of Wiebes. In Wiebes's perspective the conceptual categorisation of tactical/strategical intelligence does the job by excluding earlier political expressions as non-tactical knowledge. Instead the ‘tactical’ knowledge that would be relevant to what could happen is only acknowledged in terms of ‘hard knowledge’ which is framed in a very narrow scope of time and place. In this way, not only very few phenomena become relevant facts, but, perhaps more importantly, the narrow framing destabilises their meaning. They become ‘uncertain’ and open for many interpretations as they are no longer connected to the social and political schemes of interpretation that might have produced those ‘relevant facts’ in the first place. This politics of ‘hard knowledge’, as I would like to call it, makes it impossible to see whether the massive violence against the Muslims happened as a response to Muslim actions or as a prerequisite.
The isolation of facts that are supposed to be part of a rather (military) technical chain of events in which one action is supposed to cause the next, tends to overlook the logic and power of concepts that govern the actions of individual actors and that (military) politics is also a process of sense making instead of causal decision-making.Footnote 65 The emphasis on technical causal relations denies the dependence of relevant facts on the schemes of interpretation that make them into relevant facts or not. The logic of action is not so much determined by the facts that one encounters but a result of the disciplining power of concepts that determine what is normal, logical, and therefore meaningful action. If it has become normal to consider human beings in terms of ethnic groups that pose a threat to each others existence, than it becomes a meaningful action to try to eliminate the other group. If not, it is a completely senseless action. And even if the elimination of the other group can be positioned in history after direct ‘provocations’ of the members of the other group took place, the elimination can not be unproblematically explained in terms of causal relations. The concepts and logic that govern human action – if not spelled out in administrations and direct written orders – can only be recognised when one looks at the broader social and political spectrum and in the context of patterns formed by other actions.
This is not to argue however, that histories fully determine human action. It is just to point at the fact that the meaning of human action and events is depending on those histories. It is also a proposal ‘to develop a political consciousness of the historically inflected construction of contemporary political life and to discern or fashion openings or possibilities there’ as Wendy Brown calls for.Footnote 66
The social and juridical understanding of intent
Moral responsibility for futures to come can not be equalled to juridical responsibility. In this respect it is important to point at the schism between the social understanding and the juridical understanding of genocide as Larissa Van den Herik has established.Footnote 67 As Van den Herik notes, the purposes of the 1948 Genocide Convention are twofold, namely to prevent and to punish genocide.Footnote 68 Whereas the political debates are mostly directed to the question of the prevention of this crime, the legal debates on genocide are mostly related at the punishment of those who committed genocide. As it is a fundamental principle in law that the accused is not being considered to be guilty unless his or her guilt is proven ‘beyond reasonable doubt’ the genocide convention is interpreted very narrowly.Footnote 69 However, for political decision-making related to the prevention of mass murder or genocide, a narrow juridical interpretation of what is going on, is not appropriate in the midst of a pattern of gross violence against humanity that is so overtly present.
Nevertheless, the narrowness of the legal debate on genocide and intent seems to have found an even narrower interpretation in the official historical reconstructions of the Dutch failed UN peacekeeping mission in Srebrenica (1993–5) by the Netherlands Institute of War Documentation. Although the report is very rich in its historical details, references to the logic of the politics and patterns of violence in terms of (threat of) genocide are most times avoided. Instead, the idea of predictability of the fall of the enclave and the subsequent mass killing is represented in the rather technical discourse of military tactics and intelligence studies.
At the same time, the ICTY has further narrowed down the scope of the crime of genocide since the initial indictment of 1995. Moreover, the military-technical discourse appears to dominate the court proceedings as well. The ICTY restructured the initial Karadžić indictment by dividing a general count of genocide on the territory of Bosnia and Herzegovina into two specific counts, limiting the allegation of genocide to distinct time periods and locations; one count relating to the period between 31 March 1992 and 31 December 1992, charges the crime of genocide in eight municipalities representing the locations in which according to the prosecution the ‘most extreme manifestations’ of the intent to partially destroy the Bosnian Muslims and Bosnian Croats as such took place.Footnote 70 Although, the prosecution argued that it ‘intends to prove these allegations by relying, in part, on the cumulative effect of the evidence supporting the individual crime sites and incidents, and the resulting patterns of criminal conduct that emerge from these incidents’, it was not allowed to bring evidence for more locations.Footnote 71 The second separate count charges Karadžić for genocide in Srebrenica and relates to the period between 6 July 1995 and 1 November 1995.Footnote 72 The prosecution has stated that the revision into two separate counts for genocide would make Karadžić's case more effective.Footnote 73
Florence Hartmann, a former spokeswoman of the ICTY, has remarked that the narrowing down of the scope of the crimes in Srebrenica has turned the events into a ‘last minute genocide’ to indicate the irony of treating the crime of genocide as a local affair.Footnote 74 At the 14th anniversary of the 1995 Srebrenica massacre, the Prime Minster of Republika Srpska Milorad Dodik, belittled the events in Srebrenica by stating – without any of Hartmann's irony – that it was a ‘local genocide committed by a small number of soldiers and army officers.’Footnote 75 Edina Bećirević notes that Dodik was able to make his remark based ‘on rulings by the International Court of Justice and the Hague tribunal, both of which define the events of July 1995 in Srebrenica as genocide. They describe other crimes committed by Serb forces as ethnic cleansing, similar in scope but lacking ‘genocidal intent’. She also points at the fact that the ICTY approach conflicts with an earlier judgement by a German court that sentenced Bosnian Serb paramilitary leader Nikola Jorgic for genocide committed in the city of Doboj in 1992. The sentence was upheld by the European Court of Human Rights.Footnote 76
The narrowing down of the crimes that would constitute genocide does leave more and more crimes to the rather new legal category of ethnic cleansing, which is a form of forced deportation. According to John Quigley, the categorisation of the violence as either ethnic cleansing or as genocide is controversial:
Genocide requires intent to destroy a group. If one forces a group out of its home area through violence, it has been argued, one does not intend to destroy the group but rather to disperse it. That position hinges on what is meant by ‘destroy’ in the Genocide Convention. One might regard dispersing a group as destruction, but the matter is not entirely clear from the text of the Genocide Convention.Footnote 77
Ethnic cleansing and genocide are thus increasingly considered to be different forms of violence and no parts of the same logic. Numbers of deaths and the concentration of killing in time play an important role in the assessments.Footnote 78 As a result of this juridical classification, it might be more difficult to recognise any forewarnings of genocide.
Conclusion
Following this argument, it can no longer be a surprise that the more one isolates the subjects of inquiry in time, space and social context, the more random, unpredictable, and senseless the actions of others appear. Moreover, if that isolation is combined with a politics of ‘hard knowledge’ that presupposes modes of causation in which one actions is supposed to cause the next and in which the (military technical) chain of events is treated as unrelated to broader political expressions and schemes of interpretation, surely we can expect futures to be even more surprising. The interpretations of threatening futures are highly political and can not be depoliticised by putting them in the (technical) domain of intelligence services. Not only the interpretations in the NIOD's historiography but also the ICTY and ICJ rulings can be seen as examples that close off paths for the mobilisation of histories that are more inclusive of the workings of language and images and could help to give a better understanding of their bearing on possible futures.
In some cases the undeterminedness of the situation and the construction of events as a surprise may suit the historical and juridical interpretations, because it covers up responsibilities of third parties. Responsibilities that might also be found in the schemes of interpretation that have governed the responses to the war in the former Yugoslavia. In this respect, even Cees Wiebes nuances the importance of the question whether Srebrenica was an intelligence failure and a surprise attack or not. He refers to the case of the fall of Zepa, which was another safe area close to Srebrenica that was attacked after Srebrenica had fallen. He finally concludes that ‘this enclave did not fall due to a lack of intelligence, but due to the unwillingness of the international community to do anything else than accept a fait accompli.’Footnote 79
