Next month, in St. Louis—the city with the largest Bosnian community outside of Bosnia and Herzegovina—we gather to mark 30 years since the genocide in Srebrenica. We write to remember what happened, to honor the victims and survivors, and to reflect on what it means to remember genocide in our time.
In July 1995, more than 8,000 Bosniak men and boys were systematically executed over just a few days in and around the town of Srebrenica. They were targeted solely because they were Muslim. The perpetrators were Bosnian Serb forces under the command of General Ratko Mladić, who promised “revenge against the Turks” as he entered the supposed United Nations “safe area” that had been abandoned to its fate.
This atrocity has been recognized as genocide by both the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia and the International Court of Justice. Yet, denial persists—at home and abroad. Denial is the final stage of genocide. It ensures that victims die twice: first in body, then in memory.
For one of us, this story is deeply personal. As a teenage boy in 1995, I, Elvir, survived the horror of Srebrenica. I was lucky to escape the execution squads and the death march through enemy-held territory. My grandfather did not, and my 4-year-old sister Mirela and my 18-year-old uncle were killed during the war. In the years since, I have worked to preserve the stories of survivors and expose the mechanisms of genocide, including last month at the St. Louis Kaplan Feldman Holocaust Museum. As a survivor, I had the opportunity to share my testimony with the audience, in the hope of raising awareness and underscoring the importance of remembrance.
For the other, this story is one of moral responsibility. I, Patrick, was in Bosnia during the war and have spent much of my life working with Bosnian refugees, advocating for justice and helping Americans understand why Bosnia still matters. The lessons of Srebrenica—about dehumanization, international indifference and the slow erosion of truth—are not just Bosnian stories. They are warnings for us all.
Jewish communities know this all too well. The Holocaust remains the defining genocide of the modern era. Yet even in its shadow, genocide occurred again in Europe, just 50 years later. Bosnians say that the world promised “never again”—twice. And twice it failed.
This is why commemorations like the one in St. Louis are so essential. They are not only about grief—they are about conscience. Jewish-Bosnian solidarity, rooted in shared histories of persecution and resilience, is one of the most powerful expressions of this conscience.
Jewish leaders, scholars, and institutions have stood with Bosnia from the beginning—from Elie Wiesel’s early warnings to American Jewish advocacy for intervention in the 1990s. The Jewish community of St. Louis played an important role in welcoming Bosnian refugees in the 1990s, providing moral and material support and helping them rebuild their lives in a new home.
In return, many Bosnians see the Jewish experience as a moral compass. We remember how the denial of the Holocaust gave birth to new denials. We recognize the power of memory to shape national identity. We are learning from Jewish communities how to teach about genocide with honesty and integrity, regardless of who the perpetrators happen to be, even when those groups or nations refuse to acknowledge it.
This 30th anniversary is a turning point. The generation of survivors is aging. The generation of perpetrators is still active in politics. They are continuously, and with increasing audacity, trying to discredit judicially established facts and push their own false narratives about Srebrenica. It is yet another insult to victims and survivors. And around the world, democracy is under threat, authoritarianism is rising, and old hatreds are returning in new forms, giving a platform to historical revisionism and denialism.
What we choose to remember—and how we choose to remember—will determine the future.
In St. Louis, we see hope. The commemoration brings together survivors, scholars, community leaders, and people of all backgrounds. It shows that memory can be a bridge, not a barrier. That justice is not only legal—it is moral. That healing begins with truth.
We remember Srebrenica not just because of what was lost, but because of what still can be saved.
On July 12, the Srebrenica Remembrance Coalition will observe the 30th anniversary of the Srebrenica genocide with a program of speakers at the Soldiers Memorial Museum, followed by a memorial walk and respectful gathering with light refreshments. Details and more information available at neverforgetsrebrenica.org.
Elvir Ahmetović is a survivor of the Srebrenica genocide. Patrick McCarthy is a human rights activist and longtime advocate for Bosnia and Herzegovina. They are organizing members of the Srebrenica Remembrance Coalition, a consortium of community and civic groups that includes the St. Louis Kaplan Feldman Holocaust Museum.
