In front of the entrance to the Scheveningen prison, a building whose cupolas and massive doors remind one of the architecture of some past age, flashes click, cameramen of numerous television crews keep watch, reporters run to and fro. Red ribbons limit their movement to some 50 meters' distance from the public entrance to the building. Everyone is waiting, convinced that, even though two days have already passed since the arrest of former Yugoslav president Slobodan Milosevic, they will record what is almost a given fact among reporters here, the assumption that Milosevic is not housed here at all and that he will be transported here before Tuesday, when his first appearance before the tribunal judges is expected. Nobody believes the fuzzy tape recorded by the cameras of Dutch TV's First Program by the only reporter to secure the exclusive right to record the arrival of Milosevic in handcuffs and accompanied by two policemen.
"Are you from the Republic of Yugoslavia?" asks one Dutch reporter and makes a note that I am going to visit Momcilo Krajisnik. He leaves his phone number, asking me to give him a call and tell him what it is like inside. Reporters are not allowed to enter. In the box asking applicants to indicate their relationship with the prisoner, I wrote "friend". Ten days later, my visit was approved.
A phone call informs someone that Krajisnik has a visit. The first door opens with the characteristic sound of an alarm and a green light. I wait while two African women, also visitors to the prison, remove pieces of jewelry because the alarm goes off each time they attempt to pass the controlled entrance. One part of the Scheveningen complex houses the Dutch prison, too. The sign which says that all visitors will have a meeting with one of the officials appears to be a holdover from another time. The policeman who accompanies me opens door after door, some with a key, others with a magnetic card.
Hundreds of square meters of yard framed by the gloomy, massive buildings, walls and wire. A few dead trees and some sort of wooden benches. This part of the prison complex is used by employees. Visitors are not allowed access to a part of the yard and the prison pavilion. We continue down the long hallway of the prison hospital.
"This is an old building; it needs to be renovated," my escort says in response to my shock at what I see.
Again another door and another building and space through which we pass, reminding one of a labyrinth. Then there is a hallway where, behind glass partitions, people are doing something in front of a stove. Then another door, huge laundry machines, another alarm bell and yet another inspection of documentation.
Momcilo Krajisnik, the former parliamentary speaker of The Republic of Srpska, and I sit in a room smaller than 10 square meters and divided by a glass partition on the same side of the glass with a bottle of juice and two plastic glasses. Once we lived in the same city; now he is a prisoner in Holland and I am a refugee.
The last time we saw each other was in Pale in 1993. At that time, too, he insisted that the Serbs did not want war, that they were outvoted in the Parliament, that they had no choice... And furthermore, this was the same man who managed, while the speaker of the Bosnian parliament, to put off for hours at a time discussions on items on the daily agenda which were against Serb interests...
He gives the impression of a man who has not been broken by the prison atmosphere, despite the fact that he measures time in days, not in years. Exactly 453 days have passed since the night he was arrested in his bed as he slept and brought here.
He says it is clear to him why he was arrested. The initiative begun in cooperation with Poplasen and Radisic, following elections in The Republic of Srpska, to form a committee with the goal of establishing economic ties with Serbia was, Krajisnik is convinced, a thorn in the side of those who were afraid that it would result in the creation of a parallel government and represent a threat to the position of premier Milorad Dodik.
His conscience is absolutely clear. He and God will succeed in proving the truth, that he is innocent, that he never issued a single order, that he never made a decision, that couldn't make one because he lacked the support of a parliamentary majority. He reminds me that The Republic of Srpska was recognized in Dayton and that he held the office of parliamentary speaker; however, he also says that in the only meeting he had with Carla del Ponte, he insisted on seeing at least one piece of evidence of the 3,000 she claimed to have against him. His indictment is based on the fact that, while in office, he had direct command over the armed forces of the Republic of Srpska Army.
Testimony regarding mass rapes is so uniform, always involving the same scenario according to which a group of soldiers gang raped Muslim women that they are impossible to believe. He offers more advice than confession; however, as usual, he implies more than he says. He does not complain about his present situation. He says the staff is kind; the Dutch are a congenial people; attorneys, luckily, are paid by the tribunal because he could not afford to pay them.
"Regardless of what I think of him, the only thing I could and would be willing to testify to is the fact that Milosevic did everything possible to force us Bosnian Serbs to capitulate in order to satisfy the interests of those who asked this of him. I am a Serb from head to foot and I will always emphasize this with pride. And my defense here is directed toward the battle for Serbdom because I must prove that we have been anathematized even though we are not guilty. Even if they offered me all the wealth of this world just to acknowledge that I am guilty even just for one day, I would refuse. The same is true of the possibility of securing my release by betraying the interests of Serbdom. During the war in negotiations with foreigners, there always existed a threshold below which I was not prepared to compromise," says Krajisnik.
Has he heard that Biljana Plavsic is to be released? A grimace appears on his face for a second, followed only by the short observation:
"It's possible; she is cooperating with them, giving them some sort of interviews..."
The room is monitored; the conversation is being taped and words are carefully selected. We are holding a private conversation, Krajisnik reminds me, adding that he can't understand newspapers and reporters who are not patriots.
He says he will prove his innocence; he insists on it, for his own sake, for Serbdom and faith... He glances at the clock. He is expecting an important phone call. The visiting period is over. An hour and a half have passed.
"You'll go through that door and I'll go over here," he explains after I instinctively head after him toward the same door.
Again the ten locks were unlocked and I found myself outside the walls behind which the Northern Sea can only be heard but not seen.