The second annual Sarajevo Queer Festival, “Just Like Any Other,” ended today after four days of virtual “celebration”–meaning no one walked down Marshal Tito street waving signs and shouting slogans; no one introduced films to throngs of movie fans; no one sang songs or serenaded the crowds because this year, for fear of being violently attacked once again, LGBT Sarajevans celebrated virtually on-line through its website, paying for public education ads that played on national television for one day and by plastering 100 billboards throughout the country.

Last year, in a small effort to celebrate queerness by exhibiting art and screening films, the Sarajevo Queer festival opening was disrupted in violence, attacked by unruly thugs who appeared to be in this Balkan state, fundamentalist Muslim men.  Several LGBT persons attending opening night ended up in the hospital for medical treatment, as police failed to maintain public safety.  A number  of innocent people were beaten because of who they were.  The opening night sadly ended last year’s festival.

There seems to be an ugly trend here:  Violence in Belgrade in 2001 ended gay pride, only to be followed in 2009 with a cancellation by Serbian government officials for fear of violence on Sept. 19, which I posted here last week.  Last year’s festival in Sarajevo also ends in violence, thus producing a “virtual pride” celebration this year.  The situation has improved a bit in Croatia, allowing LGBT people to hold pride celebrations in public void of violence during the last couple of years, an improvement from earlier years.  A dear friend who lives in Sarajevo, “Aida,” for the purposes of this blog, said that Association Q, the LGBT organization that sponsored this year’s festival said that the Association “decided not to make a ‘real’ festival because of the huge violence last year.” She also said that many people are scared now, very frustrated by the events of last year.  Nonetheless, LGBT people in Banja Luka, the Serb entity of Bosnia and Herzegovina have recently formed a new queer organization there too.  This exciting, but surprising development in the heart of macho Serbdom, reflects that Balkan queers are going to come out, despite the obvious threats of violence.

Nonetheless, I am so sad today for all my friends in Sarajevo who truly only want to be able to love without fear.  As Aida told me:  “We can only get together in groups of 5 or 6 to 10 people at a time for coffee.”  Anything more than that would attract negative attention and one could certainly not engage in any public display of affection.  So in solidarity, I am sharing their broken hearts with all of you taken from the art displayed on their website:

Signing off tonight in New York City, sending much love to my fellow Sarajevans.

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