Kovači Cemetery, Sarajevo: A Walk Among the Fallen.

Kovači Cemetery, Sarajevo, Bosnia.

October 2021.

After three wonderful months exploring Montenegro, Sladja and I had mixed feelings about finally saying goodbye. On the one hand we were definitely going to miss it, particularly its spectacular coastline. On the other hand, we were excited about moving on to a new country.

As misfortune would have it, Sladja had to check into a private medical clinic a few days before we were due to leave for a minor but necessary procedure. Consequently, we decided it prudent to arrange a private taxi for our transfer from Budva to the Bosnian capital, Sarajevo.

We knew the drive would take around five and a half hours, but certainly hadn’t anticipated just how picturesque the Bosnian countryside would be. Indeed, by the time we began rolling through Sutjeska National Park, the views were breathtaking — its valleys, mountains, rivers and hillside villages all resplendent in the rich oranges, reds, browns and yellows of autumn.

In fact, we were so taken by everything that flashed past our windows that we made a pact to return for some proper exploring. One day…

Luckily, there were no delays to our journey and we arrived in Sarajevo on time. The driver dropped us off on our doorstep, a cosy one-bedroom Airbnb apartment in the hilly Kovači neighbourhood. Rising steeply above the old town (Baščaršija), it is one of the city’s oldest and most atmospheric hillside quarters.

Kovači Cemetery, Sarajevo: A Walk Among the Fallen.

Just a ten-minute walk from our apartment, a huge, sprawling cemetery sat straddling the hillside, its neat rows of white marble headstones cascading down the steep slope.

Bright and stark against the dark green of the surrounding cypress trees, and framed by the terracotta rooftops and minarets of the old town below, it is an arresting sight. Thus it didn’t take us long to decide that Kovači Cemetery (The Martyrs Cemetery) would be our first site to explore.

Before coming to Sarajevo, we knew that a good chunk of our explorations would involve the city’s museums, galleries and graveyards dedicated to the Bosnian War, which took place between 1992 and 1995. As ever, my attitude towards such sights is that they absolutely must not be glossed over, as they are central to better understand what makes a country and its people.

I’ll go into the history of the war itself in a later article. For now, I want to focus on the cemetery itself, which has its roots in the 15th century, during the days of Ottoman rule. On arrival, we noticed some of those ancient graves immediately, as they stand in such contrast to the white marble headstones of fallen Bosnian War soldiers.

Understanding Sarajevo.

The weathered grey stone is called nišani. Wonderfully atmospheric, their surfaces have been worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain. A few have carved turbans at their crowns, thought to denote the rank or religious standing of those who lie beneath.

A great deal of the original Ottoman graves had not survived the centuries, and by the early 1990s much of the grassy slope lay empty. This made it a natural choice as the primary burial site for soldiers of the Bosnian Army killed during the Siege of Sarajevo.

According to records, around 11,600 residents lost their lives at the hands of the Army of Republika Srpska, the Bosnian Serb military force — among them approximately 1,500 children. Today, some 2,500 white nišani from that period stand in silent testimony across the hillside.

It was incredibly peaceful, not another person in sight, and we soon realised that the vast majority of the fallen had been aged between 21 and 40.

That was the case with Salčin Ramiz, born 1954, died 1992 — one of the earliest casualties of the siege, taken at 38 years old. The inscription at the base reads: “His wife Suada and sons Mirza and Adnan raised this stone.”

Kovači Cemetery.

Eventually, we came upon the cemetery’s central feature, an open-sided dome of latticed stone, beneath which lies a modest obelisk.

Here stands the grave of Alija Izetbegović, Bosnia’s first president and the man who led the country through the war. He reportedly chose to be buried here among his martyrs, rather than in any grander or more separate setting — a gesture that says much about the man.

Izetbegović was a lawyer, Islamic philosopher and author who became one of the defining figures of Balkan history. Yugoslav authorities imprisoned him twice for his political and religious beliefs, first in 1946 for three years, and again in 1983 for fourteen years (later reduced).

Released in 1988, he founded the Party of Democratic Action prior to his election as Bosnia’s first president in 1990. When the war came, he led the defence of Bosnia throughout the four-year siege. He frequently visited front-line units throughout the conflict, even while the Presidency building itself was under bombardment.

Alija Izetbegović (1925-2003).

Photo courtesy of Helene C. Stikkel.

He went on to sign the Dayton Agreement in 1995 — a peace he famously described as “not a just peace, but more just than a continuation of the war.” His legacy remains complex — revered by Bosniaks as the father of their nation, yet viewed critically by Bosnian Serbs and Serbian nationalists.

Photo courtesy of Brian Schlumbohm.

A short distance from the dome, a sign bearing his words and signature is mounted on one of the cemetery’s old stone walls. It reads:

“In the difficult days of 1991–1995, when a great darkness had descended over much of the Balkans, some light still reached out from this martyred city. Sarajevo will recognise that privilege as an obligation for the future. Naturally, an obligation to the pledge of democracy.”

From there we made our way to the long memorial wall, its surface clad entirely in carved marble tablets, each bearing a name. Given that Kovači holds just 2,500 graves, yet around 11,600 lost their lives during the Siege of Sarajevo, the wall almost certainly commemorates those laid to rest elsewhere. Most likely in the dozens of smaller cemeteries dotted across the surrounding hills — or those who were simply never found at all.

The Ottoman graves aren’t the only ones that predate the 1990s. In fact, one striking monument commemorates members of the Young Muslims — a Bosnian Islamic youth organisation founded in 1939. Tito’s regime executed a number of their members between 1945 and 1949 during postwar communist purges. Interestingly, Alija Izetbegović himself was once a member of the group.

Kovači Cemetery.

Another unexpected feature is a sunken open-air amphitheatre at the lower end of the site. It’s a circular space ringed by stepped stone seating that feels purpose-built for quiet contemplation.

Though I couldn’t find anything specific about it online, it strikes me as the perfect setting for remembrance ceremonies and public addresses. At its centre, inlaid into the floor, is a large eight-pointed star. A motif rooted in Islamic artistic tradition, it represents divine order and the interconnectedness of life and death.

Finally, we strolled down to the onsite exhibition, only to find it locked up. Being so close to home, we found ourselves passing the cemetery regularly on our walks into the city centre. Each time, we tried our luck. At long last, towards the end of our month-long stay, we arrived to find it open. Inside was a single, darkened room — a compact but atmospheric exhibit dedicated to the Siege of Sarajevo and some of Bosnia’s most decorated wartime heroes.

A series of illuminated display cases lined the walls, each holding documents, personal correspondence and personal effects. Modest in scale but quietly compelling, it would take several hours to read everything in full. So we chose instead to focus on a handful of individuals, among them Safet Hadžić, a Bosnian politician and key organiser of the resistance.

Safet Hadžić (1952-1992).

Hadžić died during an attack on a weapons factory in the Bosnian town of Vogošća on 18th April 1992, just two weeks into the siege. Posthumously, he received the rank of brigadier general, along with the Order of the Hero medal, Bosnia’s highest military decoration.

Kovači Cemetery was our first insight into how the Bosnian War has shaped the city of Sarajevo. Soon, we would dive much deeper into the details; a voyage of discovery that was not for the fainthearted.

Like this? Don’t miss my detailed travel guide to Sarajevo, with reports from all over the city.

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