Monday, June 15, 1998
Time at The Bruin provides experience for life
My hands were trembling as I walked out of the room, clutching
my tape recorder and notepad to my chest. It was an opportunity I
had never dreamed of. He was a foreign dignitary who had requested
to speak to me specifically. The best story of my life.
Before this experience, I had never cried on a story. (I had
been too above that as a journalist.) Nor had I ever been so
profoundly humbled by any subject as I was by Fahrudin
Rizvanbegovic.
He walked into the Bruin office on a Saturday afternoon, flanked
by a translator and a friend. I greeted him confidently with the
limited Serbo-Croatian I knew, while secretly reveling in the clip
of a lifetime.
How many college journalists get to interview the Bosnian
secretary of education? I greeted him with "Assalamu Alaikum," the
Muslim greetings of peace, knowing he shared my faith.
I was intimidated and exhilarated, but I was too arrogant to let
it show. An hour and half later, I was humbled and grateful.
Keeping up with my prepared list of questions (a must for any
journalist), we discussed the state of education in Bosnia, the
nature of his trip to the States and the rebuilding of Bosnia after
the war.
Everything was routine until my last question. The response to
my simple inquiry of "How did you get into this position?" resulted
in an answer that totally floored me. Rizvanbegovic was telling the
translator about his education and teaching, when suddenly I heard
him say in Serbo-Croatian, "… when I got out of the camp."
Camp? Thoughts rushed through my head. So I responded the only
way I knew how, with a question. I interrupted his casual remarks
with an astounded, "I’m sorry. Did the minister just say that he
was in the camps? The concentration camps?"
And the translator, just as casually said, "Yes, the minister
was in the camps."
While I sat in shock, Rizvanbegovic spent the next 45 minutes
recounting his experiences.
In June 1993, the elite intellectuals of Bosnia were rounded up
and placed in concentration camps by Serbian captors.
Rizvanbegovic, then a professor, was one of them.
He was placed in a concentration camp in Croatia, where he was
held from June to December of 1993. He survived solely on 1/16 of a
loaf of bread and a glass of water each day.
One month after they had captured the elite, all the commoners
were taken into custody. While he was in the camp, his wife and
daughter were persecuted, and their house was torched.
By the time he left the camp, he weighed only 120 pounds – just
a skeleton of the tall, dignified man sitting before me.
Not only was he physically tortured, but the reminders of his
life outside were also destroyed. His 300-year-old home, located in
an aristocratic historical area, was destroyed along with
heirlooms, family documents and his prized possession – his
library.
Freed in December of 1993, Rizvanbegovic was released in Zagreb
for 48 hours but not allowed back into Bosnia.
After two months in Zagreb (Croatia), he was finally flown back
into Bosnia after a personal plea to Bosnian President Alija
Izetbegovic.
When he finally got back, Rizvanbegovic immediately wrote a
literature textbook. He used writing – an art I had taken for
granted – as "his weapon." That moment crystallized my outlook on
the profession I hope to enter.
Two and a half years ago, President Izetbegovic asked him
personally to accept the position of minister of education,
science, culture and sports.
Even after all he has survived, Rizvanbegovic is dedicated to
minimizing the differences between the ethnic and religious groups
of Bosnians.
With the help of the Turkish libraries and also a number of
other sympathetic countries, they have slowly pieced together new
collections of heritage. Rizvanbegovic wants the children of Bosnia
to learn from the past and not be trapped by it.
His task has been far from easy. All schools were destroyed
during the war, according to Rizvanbegovic, because Serbian forces
strategically targeted centers of education, considered "keys to
the future."
Since 1995, most of the schools have been rebuilt. The major
reforms in education have been through a transition from a
communist to a democratic way of teaching and running schools.
Their school system is free from all ideology, implementing what it
finds most attractive in other countries’ educational systems.
Throughout the interview, I never detect any anger or
resentment. The only hint of that comes when he describes the
actions of the Serbs being executed with "barbaric hatred." It is a
phrase he uses often.
I am astounded by his humble demeanor as he reminds me that the
war criminals still need to be put on trial.
For days after our meeting, his words resounded in my head.
"If I can live and work alongside the people who imprisoned me,
then people of other groups should be able to do the same
thing."
A profound statement, considering all that he had been subjected
to. But the most stunning incident that occurred that day happened
after he had left.
I scurried back to my office, eager to document the horror he
had seen and forgiven. I rewound the tape, wanting to review his
numerous astounding statements. To my unending horror, I had made
the blunder of a thousand amateur journalists. I had not tested my
equipment.
The only thing on that tape was static. Not only that, but I had
been so captivated by his words that I had not thought to take any
notes.
While it proved impossible to publish that interview, it was
just one lesson I have learned as a journalist.
The Bruin has changed me far more than I have changed it. In
three years, The Bruin has transformed me from a timid, shy
freshman lost in the chaos of UCLA to a junior (barely)
commandeering reporters and talking back to cops. I couldn’t see
the change coming, but somewhere along the line it happened.
So far, UCLA has been about finding myself as both a Muslim and
a journalist – and, more importantly, how that combination can be
used to effect change. I’m a different person now than I was three
years ago, and I am grateful.
This job, this place has helped me grow and learn about all
walks of life. But one simple man reminded me of what Allah (God)
teaches:
"Nay, seek (Allah’s) help with patient perseverance and prayer;
it is indeed hard, except to those who are humble," (Qur’an,
2:45).
Edina Lekovic