sarajevo

We can and we should provide both if the decades-long international system of protection of civilians and regulation of warfare is to have any meaning. It is urgent to ensure the safe passage of civilians in Eastern Aleppo according to International Law; and it is imperative to investigate the responsibility for the crimes that have already been committed.
Today, our hope that the majority chooses exclusively peace is still stronger than our fear of naivete. One war is more than enough for a lifetime, and we hope to provide a peaceful childhood for our offspring. The War Childhood Museum's message comes from a generation that learned this lesson firsthand, and never has it rung truer: peace has no alternative.
On the 11 July, Remember Srebrenica. Remember the horrors of a genocide on our doorstep only twenty years ago. Remember that number - 8372. It's still rising. But let's also remember to guard against the rise of the sentiments and language that can so easily turn people to acts of horror that they would never have thought possible.
At a ripe old age of around 70 fighting throat cancer, he spoke of everything he went through leading up to, during and post the Siege of Sarajevo. We couldn't have been more transfixed and attentive in our lives, in the hope we didn't miss an ounce of his story.
The first days of August 1914 saw a series of declarations of war between the Great Powers of Europe. One hundred years later, the first days of August 2014 saw a series of commemorations, in which allies and enemies came together to acknowledge the sacrifice and devastation of World War One...
Well, actually two books. The first - an illuminated Hebrew manuscript from the 15th century. The other - a novel by prize-winning Australian-born author Geraldine Brooks. The two books converged in Sarajevo and I was compelled to visit.
My wife and I arrived in Sarajevo in June, as part of our tour of Bosnia and Herzegovina. We were eager to visit a city rich in history, culture, and religious diversity.
The blurb for the brand new book Out of the West, by Kevin Sullivan, is really very bad. The first sentence lost me immediately as it mentioned two Greek names - both of which I instantly forgot - and then it describes their convoluted love affair in WW2 Greece, with some action taking place in Scotland.
I stood in the Frontline Club behind the podium, staring at the row of faces I was asking for money. Behind me on a projector ran a constant loop of harrowing images from the Syrian war - the dead, the wounded, the broken cities; young men with gasmasks to protect against chemical weapons attacks, women and children forced to leave their homes, huddled, hundreds to a room in the foreign lands where they've been forced to take refuge.
It's not the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last time that Dr Karadzic mentions me in the dock.