"New Faces in the Parliament:
Behind the Scenes of the September 1998 Bosnian Elections"

by Ambassador Swanee Hunt
The Ambassadors Review, Fall 1998

During the tenuous summer of 1996, a dozen key American Embassy personnel sat around a table reviewing lessons learned and brainstorming possible new initiatives to help secure the peace.

A departing political officer bemoaned the corruption and lack of constructive –purpose among Bosnian political leadership—those who had planned the war, and then been tasked with planning the peace. "These men won't bring in new democratic reforms. If you could get women into political office, that would be a huge help. We need new faces."

If Only They'd Organized

No one denies that Bosnia was a solid patriarchy before, during, and after the war. Educational gains for women under Communism did little to secure places of leadership. Typical of much of the society, at the bread bakery that fed Sarajevans during the siege, 70 percent of the employees were women—but the company was directed by a board of five men. With the abolition of quotas, the percentage of women in the Parliament had dropped from about 24 percent in the former Yugoslavia, to around three percent after the initial post-war elections.

Where had those women leaders gone? Bosnian post-war population estimates were that women comprised about 65 to 70 percent of the voting population; with their doctorates and professional expertise, why were they not calling (or calling off) the shots?

The answer is not obvious. This fall, a student at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government asked a leading State Department guest, who had been in Bosnia for extended times in the thick of the war, how local women might have had more influence. "They should have formed a network," he answered. "Had they organized at all?" the student pursued. They had not, was his reply.

With an apology, I contradicted our guest. In fact, during the war, Bosnian women were organized into some 20 multi-ethnic associations across the country, and leaders of those grassroots organizations had united to form, "The Women's Union." I had spoken to a large gathering of The Union (by candlelight) a few weeks after the shelling ceased.

The women had also produced a monthly publication, distributing thousands of copies even in the middle of the war. Zena 21, (Women of the 21st Century) urged readers to maintain their multi-cultural ideals and profiled women leaders in all sectors of the society.

Even more dramatic, the Bosnians organized a Sarajevo conference of 500 women from all ethnic groups only four months after the Paris signing of the Dayton Agreement. Yes, I assured my students, I was certain; we had assisted in the planning from our Embassy in Vienna; I had keynoted the event and sat with the Bosnian political leaders in the front row; and I had in my archives tapes of the live television coverage, as well as a collection of newspaper articles.

So how could leading Balkan experts in the State Department (even those posted "in country"_ not be aware of such a critical community-based force promoting key values intrinsic to US interests?

The Invisible Woman

Women in Bosnia, like most other countries in the world, are often rendered invisible by policymakers more comfortable with positioning for power than relationship building. The integrative work women accomplish within the society is not only de-valued; it is frequently not even recognized.

A Nobel Peace Prize to grassroots women organizers of Northern Ireland may focus the interests of the world for a short time on this connecting style of work. But the honor does not penetrate the ethos of "The Establishment" as long as the overwhelming majority of elected and appointed officials is male.

In fact, there is a camouflage effect as women who rise within male constructed and dominated systems often assume many of the characteristics of the men they depend on for career success. In addition, the prevailing role expectations (based on a string of men's performances in these roles) demand compromises in content and style. In simplest terms, a woman Secretary of State does not enter a room with a purse.

Hence women in policy-making roles wrestle with whether of how to adapt language, work styles, and world views to fit in with the culture in which we are such a small minority. Afraid they will not be taken seriously if they "act like women," many choose their words (as well as their wardrobes) to blend in with the men around them. The expression of their countervailing perspective is thus diminished, and the mix of ideas brought to the table is poorer.

Recently, political scientist Francis Fukuyama created an uproar with an article published in Foreign Affairs entitled, "Women and the Evolution of World Politics." Critics scream that the article reeked of "essentialism," with unsupportable postulations of broadly generalized differences in men and women, based on the behavior of chimps in Tanzania. Social psychologists and cultural anthropologists at Harvard were appalled—what kind of Neanderthal would dare draw from observations of primates to explain human behavior?
>BR>Would those critics be equally appalled to hear the women of Bosnia describe their perceptions of basic differences between women and men (as groups), based on attitudes and behavior before, during, and after the war? Not only do the women believe the society would be different if women were in positions of leadership; Haris Silajdzic, prime minister and foreign minister during the war, insisted to a group of reporters that if women had been around the policy table, the war would not have happened. "Women would not send their sons out to kill other people's children," he said.

That assertion belies supposed words of wisdom which an upper echelon White House foreign policy advisor says were delivered to him by United States (US) intelligence sources. "Children learn ethnic hatred at the hearth," he was told—with the corollary assumption that the hearth is the women's domain. Bosnian women did not fare much better in US military briefings I witnessed during the war, where mothers were described as hysterical agitators and troublemakers for threatening to physically block the road as UN Protection Force soldiers tried to retreat from the "safe havens" they had been sent to protect. Later, talking with the women themselves, I came to see them as heroes, demanding that the international community live up to its word and defend the communities where disarmed refugees huddled month after month as the shelling grew louder.

In contrast to these policy put-downs, at the 1996 G-7 meeting in Lyon, President Clinton announced a Bosnian Women's Initiative, which to date has funneled nearly ten millions dollars to women starting up businesses. The funding is distributed by the United Nations (UN) High Commission on Refugees, through four locally-based Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) that offer business counsel and encouragement. Such economic programs, as well as micro-loans (fashioned after Bangladesh's Grameen Bank) boasting a 99 percent repayment rate, have created a web of not only economic enterprise, but also local NGOs teaching business skills across the country.

Power at the Polling Station

Even more dramatic was the development this spring that explicitly addressed women's role in Bosnian elective politics. Despite the September news of western-favored Bilijana Plavisc's stunning defeat to a Serb hard-liner in the Republika Srpska, women across Bosnia made dramatic gains at the polls. Their advance is not a reflection of a change in Bosnian society, but an extraordinary story of successful social maneuvering.

In February, six women, representing three nationalist groups, as well as the Women's Party, and two multi-ethnic coalitions, cam to Washington. They represented parties that had caused incalculable dislocation, loss, and pain to each other. Still, over the course of six days of visits to the Holocaust Museum, Institute of Peace, State department, etc., the women put aside their reasons to hate, and managed to find common ground.

Back in Bosnia, the six invited every political party to send representatives to a conference in Sarajevo a few weeks later entitled, "Women: A New Political Future," and co-sponsored by Hunt alternatives and the Organizations for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE). Two hundred women came from 25 political parties—a remarkable 40 percent from Republika Srpska came to the Federation capital, many for the first time in six years.

One participant described the war as one "in which every mother bled." So of course they could—and would—united to secure the peace. Tearful scenes of reconciliation in the corridors, combined with spirited but well-intended debate in the conference room, underscored once more the truth of Silajdzic's words. Bringing women into political leadership is a major move not only toward democratization, but also healing in a war-weary land.

Fresh Faces, Fresh Ideas

In August 1997, seven women from across Bosnia's political parties, geographical cantons and three ethnic groups met at the US-commanded Eagle Base near Tuzla. In 36 hours, they designed a Bosnian League of Women Voters that became active immediately, holding community-based voter education meetings before elections a few weeks later. Exactly one year later, preparatory to the next elections, the League distributed 10,000 copies of a thick book profiling women candidates across all political parties. Each page gave not only biographical information and political positions, but showed a full-face portrait of the candidate.

When UN Special Envoy Elizabeth Rehn addressed the "Vital Voice" conference in Vienna in July 1997, she quipped: "Women aren't so defensive; they don't mind losing face because they can put on a new one every morning." At the dais, I smiled, remembering the Sarajevo Embassy political officer's words: peace in the Balkan will depend not only on fresh faces, but support for fresh ideas. Political decision makers and public opinion shapers who care not only about the rights of women, but about long lasting peace and security in the southeast corner of Europe, must support women in concrete ways—both policies and practices—as they move into new positions of leadership in Bosnia.

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