Bosnian Serb general Ratko Mladic made a throat-slitting gesture to a woman who lost her son, husband and brothers in the Srebenica massacre at the start of his trial on Wednesday for some of the worst atrocities in Europe since World War Two. Mladic, now 70, flashed a defiant thumbs-up as he entered the courtroom — the last of the main protagonists in the Balkan wars of the 1990s to go on trial at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia in The Hague. A hero to Serb nationalists, the “Butcher of Bosnia” to his Muslim and Croat victims, the pugnacious general eluded justice for 16 years until his capture in a cousin's farmhouse in Serbia last May. The list of 11 charges stemming from his actions as the Serb military commander in the Bosnian war of 1992-95 ranges from genocide to murder, acts of terror and crimes against humanity. He is accused of orchestrating not only the week-long massacre of 8,000 unarmed Muslim men and boys in Srebrenica but also the 43-month siege of the Bosnian capital Sarajevo, in which more than 10,000 people were killed by snipers, machine guns and heavy artillery. Mladic, who refused to enter a plea, cuts a much frailer figure now than his bullish, strutting wartime persona — his defence lawyer said he had suffered three strokes and a heart attack. But he appears to have lost none of his defiance. In the public gallery, Munira Subasic, whose 18-year-old son, husband and brothers were killed in Srebrenica, stared at him from behind a glass barrier, crossing her wrists to imitate handcuffs. Mladic stared back and drew a hand across his throat. Presiding judge Alphons Orie promptly called a brief recess and ordered an end to “inappropriate interactions.” “I thought I would see at least some remorse in his eyes when I came here,” Subasic said. “But instead I saw his bloodthirstiness. I don't know how he can live with what he did, with killing so many people.” The proceedings were broadcast live on big screens in Sarajevo, where thousands were killed by snipers or artillery while queuing for water or bread, or crossing the street. Hasna Hadzic, a pensioner who survived the siege, stopped off on her way from the market, visibly shaken. “I feel like crying when I think of what he has done to us: killed 8,000 in Srebrenica alone, killed people in Foca, Visegrad, our children in Sarajevo,” she said, wiping away tears. “They shouldn't have put him on trial. They should have liquidated him immediately.” But in Pale, the mountain stronghold from which Serb forces orchestrated the siege and bombardment of the capital 16 km away, applause broke out in cafes every time Mladic appeared on the television screens. “Crimes were committed by all sides,” said Serb student Mladen Mancic. “This is just an honourable man who defended the Serb people. If it wasn't for him we wouldn't be here today.” Mladic was in command of the Bosnian Serb army when, over several days in July 1995, Serb fighters attacked the Srebrenica enclave in eastern Bosnia, theoretically under the protection of Dutch UN peacekeepers. Video footage shot at the time showed Mladic mingling with Muslim prisoners. Shortly afterwards, the men and boys were separated from the women, stripped of identification, and shot.
