In Defence of the Rightless. Banja Luka: Bishop’s Ordinary of Banja Luka and Croatian Heritage Foundation, 1997. (500 p.)
The following text is the Preface to the book by Most Reverend Theodore E. McCarrick, Archbishop of Newark, Chairman of International Policy Committee U.S. Catholic Bishops’ Conference.
In August 1995, a spokesman for the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) said that the “barbarity” of ethnic cleansing will make Banja Luka, the second-largest city in Bosnia- Herzegovina, “go down in history as the heart of darkness.”
The world got its first glimpse into this “heart of darkness ” in the summer of 1992 when photos of emaciated 
prisoners in concentration camps near Banja Luka led to international condemnations and urgent calls 0for action. But international attention soon was diverted to other parts of Bosnia, especially Sarajavo, where the brutality of “ethnic cleansing” and siege warfare was there for the whole world to see.
Because the war was being fought elsewhere, Banja Luka quickly descended back into oblivion. A systematic campaign of “ethnic cleansing” continued for more than three more years, mostly out of view of outsiders, except for a few brave human rights monitors and relief workers from organizations like Human Rights Watch, UNHCR, and the International Committee of the Red Cross. For three more years, people were murdered or raped in their homes at night; tortured, beaten, and forced into labor camps or the Bosnian Serb military by day. Non-Serbs were dismissed from their jobs and denied medical care and other basic services. Most lost their businesses and were pressured to sign over title to their homes and pay huge sums for permission to flee. All the mosques in Banja Luka and most of the Catholic churches were systematically destroyed, and cemeteries were desecrated.
These were just some of the tools of “ethnic cleansing” a deliberate and systematic effort by Bosnian Serb authorities to create an ethnically pure republic in which all traces of other cultures and religion would be eliminated. And it was an effective campaign. Of the estimated 550,000 non-Serbs (mostly Bosniac-Muslims and Croatian Catholics) in the Banja Luka region before the war fewer than 15,000 remain, and these remaining few are under intense pressure to leave. All of this has taken place in an area which has been free of fighting since the beginning of the war.
In the remarkable book, Most Reverend Franjo Komarica, the Roman Catholic Bishop of Banja Luka, gives us the equivalent of a public diary of this humanitarian nightmare. His prodigious collection of letters, statements, and appeals to the Catholics in his diocese, Serb authorities, church representatives, and political leaders from around the world document in excruciating detail the horrors through which he and the rest of the non Serb population Lived for almost four years. As such, this collection provides valuable first-hand information about events that could not be monitored by international human rights groups. Even in the face of death threats and the murder of a half dozen of his priests and nuns, Bishop Komarica and a few priests and lay people meticulously catalogued virtually every killing and human rights violation and then shared it with anyone who would listen. What they produced is proof, if any is still needed, that no one can credibly say, “If only we know, we could hew done something!”
But if this book were simply a compilation of the horrors of war and the appeals for help which never came, it might not be of special interest, even though few such tragedies have been so well documented as they were occurring. What makes this book truly noteworthy is that it is a diary of one religious leader’s struggle to witness to the truth when most of us would have remained silent out of sheer fear. It is like a photo album of Christian witness; snapshot after snapshot of one man’s efforts to live Gospel values of truth, nonviolence, peace, and reconciliation amidst the worst kinds of human depravity. In a situation where violence reigned and armed defense seemed the only option for non-Serbs, Bishop Komarica urged Catholics to forego the use of force, insisting that nonviolence and a commitment to collaboration between the diverse ethnic and religious groups were the only ways to counter extreme nationalists.
In the face of those who preached a politics of hatred and division, he was a prophetic witness to the possibility of maintaining a multi-ethnic, multi-religious society. He has encouraged Catholics to stand up to “ethnic cleansing” by refusing to consent to the “voluntary” departures promoted by Serb authorities. His own home was packed with some twenty refugees at a time, while he countered the logic of ethnic hatred by providing humanitarian relief, through his Caritas agency, to needy Serbs, Croats, and Muslims alike. For the same reason, he has rejected the misuse of the concept of collective guilt, insisting that it is a relatively few extremists, not the whole Serb population, who are responsible for Croat and Muslim suffering.
No one who reads this book, even in part, can continue to hold to the all-too common perception that religion has been part of the problem in Bosnia, not part of the solution. This is a moving testament to the Christian witness shown by Church leaders like Bishop Komarica during a war in which religion has been grossly manipulated, mostly by irreligious political authorities to serve their nationalist ends.
In the end, this book is a diary of one man’s willingness to put his life on the line for his faith. He could easily have left Banja Luka, as most non-Serbs were forced to do, but he stayed. He stayed even after being placed under de facto house arrest for most of 1995. Not only did he stay but he continued to speak out on behalf of the few who remained, not a few of whom credit him with saving their lives.
He has told me that he was too concerned about standing up for human rights and human dignity to be concerned about his own well-being. He has spoken movingly about how free he felt when he realized that the risk of being killed no longer mattered to him because of his faith and his conviction that he was doing God’s work.
I have been privileged to become a friend of Bishop Komarica over the past several years and to visit him in Banja Luka more than once. I have seen first-hand what he has documented so well in this book. Moreover, I have come to know and admire him as one of the heroes of a war which can boast few heroes. He is a living contradiction to the extreme nationalists and religious fanatics who fuel ethnic and religious conflict and preach communal separation in Bosnia-Herzegovina and elsewhere.
In that sense, this is a deeply spiritual book. It is a diary of a man whose faith not only survived but shone forth for all to see in the face of all manner of evil. It is a spiritual diary that should inspire any of us who seek to live our faith more fully. It is a spiritual story that deserves to be read, with awe and humility, on one’s knees.