The Siege of Sarajevo, 1991 - 1995. Ethnic Cleansing, Genocide. First UN Intervention with Force.

The relief of Sarajevo forced a turning point. Under relentless NATO bombardment and international pressure, Serbian forces withdrew, and for the first time, the government of Serbia recognized Bosnia-Herzegovina’s independence. It was a reluctant acknowledgment, extracted not through diplomacy but through force.

This marked the first decisive action by the United Nations in post-Cold War Europe. After years of inaction and failed peacekeeping efforts, the international response to this war set the stage for future interventions. The airstrikes and military operations that ended the siege would serve as a blueprint for NATO’s role in Kosovo just a few years later, as well as future conflicts where Western powers would justify intervention under the banner of humanitarianism.

The war in Bosnia was not just another regional conflict. It was the first true test of international order in the wake of communism’s collapse—a test that exposed both the failures and the evolving role of global military alliances in a world no longer defined by the Cold War.

Sarajevo. May 1991 - December 1995.
Bosnian Forces: 150,000 Troops.
Serbian Forces: 80,000 Troops.

Additional Reading and Episode Research:

• Gow, James. Triumph of the Lack of Will.
• Judah, Tim. The Serbs: Myth, History, and the Destruction of Yugoslavia.
• Cohen, Roger. Hearts Grown Brutal: Sagas of Sarajevo.

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Transcript

 Thanks for tuning in to today's episode of History's Greatest Battles, Season 2, where we explore history's greatest sieges. If you know somebody that enjoys this genre of history, please share the podcast with them.  In the spring of 1992, a year after the Cold War had ended and the Soviet Union had collapsed,  The world was adjusting to a new balance of power, but in the Balkans, the dissolution of Yugoslavia had already ignited a series of brutal wars.

One of them would become the longest siege of a capital city in modern warfare. It was defined by ethnic cleansing, relentless bombardment, and the deliberate targeting of civilians.

This war was not an isolated conflict. Its origins stretched back centuries, buried in the legacies of the Ottoman and Austro Hungarian empires, the world wars, and the fragile unity of socialist Yugoslavia. It was fought not just with bullets and artillery,  But with ideology, nationalism, and the systematic destruction of entire communities, it exposed the failures of diplomacy, the limitations of the United Nations, and the brutal efficiency of modern siege tactics.

Its outcome reshaped international politics. It forced NATO into an unprecedented role. Direct military intervention in a European war. It led to the first war crime tribunals since Nuremberg, setting a precedent for prosecuting genocide and crimes against humanity in the modern era. It redefined military intervention, shaping strategies that would later be used in Kosovo, Iraq, Afghanistan, and beyond.

This was not just history. The decisions made in this war dictated the balance of power in the Balkans for decades. The alliance is formed, the grudge is held, and the borders drawn remained unforgotten. To understand this war is to understand the world that followed. Let's now experience the siege of Sarajev 

Welcome to History's Greatest Battles, Season Two, Episode 11: The Siege of Sarajevo, from May of 1991 to December of 1995.

Bosnian Forces: roughly 150,000 troops.
Serbian Forces: roughly 80,000 troops.

The relief of Sarajevo forced a turning point. Under relentless NATO bombardment and international pressure, Serbian forces withdrew, and for the first time, the government of Serbia recognized Bosnia-Herzegovinas independence. It was a reluctant acknowledgment, extracted not through diplomacy but through force.

This marked more than just the end of a siege, it was the first decisive action by the United Nations in post-Cold War Europe. After years of inaction and failed peacekeeping efforts, the international response to this war set the stage for future interventions. The airstrikes and military operations that ended the siege would serve as a blueprint for NATO's role in Kosovo just a few years later, as well as future conflicts where Western powers would justify intervention under the banner of humanitarianism.

The war in Bosnia was the first true test of international order in the wake of communisms collapse... a test that exposed both the failures and the evolving role of global military alliances in a world no longer defined by the Cold War.

For centuries after Rome's collapse, Bosnia-Herzegovina has been a land torn by conflict, where rival powers and warring factions have fought for dominance. Across the ages, waves of settlers, each with their own faith, their own blood ties, and their own vision of the land, claimed Bosnia as home. Up until the dawn of the nineteenth century, identity in Bosnia was simple, regardless of religion, its people called themselves Bosnian. But by the late 1800s, that unity shattered. Ethnic and religious divisions hardened, and the people who once stood as one began turning against each other. After World War II, Josip Broz Tito’s iron-fisted leadership kept the country’s ethnic tensions in check. Under his rule, Yugoslavia remained stable, not through peace, but through force. But the moment Tito died, the old grudges resurfaced. Political ambition, ethnic loyalty, and religious identity became battle lines once again. As Yugoslavia fractured, one man sought to forge a new Serbian empire from its ruins, Slobodan Milošević. His rise to power set Bosnia-Herzegovina on a collision course with war. By early 1992, the world had recognized Croatia and Slovenia as independent states. Macedonia was on the verge of breaking away. Bosnia-Herzegovina had a choice: submit to Milošević’s Yugoslavia or seize its own destiny. Milošević had the power of the Yugoslav army in his hands. He controlled the weapons, the tanks, the artillery. And he had no intention of letting Bosnia slip away without a fight. In February 1992, Bosnia put its fate to a vote. A referendum would decide whether the country would remain shackled to Yugoslavia or carve its own path. Milošević made his position clear, if Bosnia chose independence, blood would follow. He rallied Serbs in Bosnia to rise up against the referendum. But the people of Bosnia had made up their minds. They voted overwhelmingly for freedom. On April 5, 1992, Bosnia’s parliament declared independence. That same day, thousands in Sarajevo gathered in the streets, hoping for peace. As the crowd stood unarmed, calling for unity, Serb Nationalists and Yugoslav soldiers opened fire. Sarajevo’s blood stained the pavement. The very next day, April 6, 1992, the siege of Sarajevo began. The city, once a thriving capital, became a warzone overnight. Armed with little more than police-issue handguns and scavenged weapons, the Bosnians stood against the Serb Nationalist onslaught. It was a fight of sheer will against overwhelming firepower. Just one day later, on April 7, 1992, the world officially recognized Bosnia-Herzegovina’s independence. But recognition meant nothing in the face of Serbian artillery. By May, Bosnia was officially welcomed into the United Nations. Yet even as diplomats shook hands in New York, Sarajevo burned. A cruel twist of fate: Bosnia had international recognition but no means to defend itself. A UN arms embargo, originally placed on the entire former Yugoslavia, left Bosnian forces helpless against Serbian firepower. Milošević and his Serb forces had no such restrictions. With full control of the Yugoslav army’s weapons stockpiles, they unleashed hell upon Sarajevo, a city the United Nations had laughably declared a “safe zone.”

The architects of Sarajevo’s suffering were two men: Radovan Karadžić, the self-proclaimed president of the Bosnian Serb Republic, and his ruthless general, Ratko Mladić. Together, they orchestrated the city’s destruction with the precision of men who had no interest in restraint. The Serbian war machine fielded 70,000 troops, hardened by years of military service and armed with the full stockpile of the former Yugoslav army. Opposing them, 80,000 Bosnians and Croatians stood ready, but their ranks were filled with civilians turned fighters, men and women who had neither the training nor the weaponry to match their enemy. With Serbian funding, weapons, and military backing, the Bosnian Serbs waged a campaign of ethnic eradication. Their goal was not just victory, but the cleansing of Bosnia’s non-Serb population, above all, the Muslim Bosniaks. Sarajevo was not simply under siege, it was being purged. The Serb forces sought to carve out an ethnically pure Serbian state, and that meant slaughter, terror, and displacement on an industrial scale. Reports flooded in, accounts of systematic rape, brutal torture, and mass executions. Thousands were imprisoned in concentration camps where death was as common as breath, and survival was reduced to a grim lottery. Throughout 1992 and 1993, Sarajevo remained under relentless attack. Serbian artillery pounded the city day and night, while snipers lined the hills, picking off civilians with cold precision. Diplomats from the United Nations and the European Union made feeble attempts at peace in 1993, but diplomacy meant nothing to men whose strategy was extermination. Every agreement collapsed before the ink had even dried. With diplomacy failing, NATO stepped in. Fighter jets patrolled Bosnian airspace, enforcing a United Nations ban on Serbian military flights. It was a small step, one that did nothing to stop the killing on the ground. By early 1994, NATO’s warnings turned to ultimatums: remove heavy weapons from Sarajevo or face airstrikes. The world had watched long enough, and patience had worn thin. Under pressure, the Serbs withdrew some of their artillery. For Sarajevo, it was a brief moment of respite, one that would not last. In the face of Serbian aggression, old enemies became uneasy allies. Bosnian Muslims and Catholic Croats, once bitter rivals, put aside their differences and turned their guns toward the common threat. The agreement ended their internal war, but against the Serbs, the battle raged on. Sarajevo remained under siege, its people still enduring starvation, bombardment, and bloodshed. Then came February 1994, a day that burned itself into Sarajevo’s memory. A Serbian artillery strike tore through the city, killing 68 civilians and wounding 200 more. The massacre forced NATO’s hand. A heavy weapons exclusion zone was imposed, 12.5 miles around Sarajevo, a line in the sand drawn by Western powers. For the first time in years, the people of Sarajevo could move beyond their prison walls. But the Serbs were undeterred. On April 10, 1994, NATO struck back. For the first time, Serbian forces faced the wrath of Western firepower. Yet on the ground, the war did not stop. Bosnians fought for survival, Serbs fought for domination, and Sarajevo remained the battleground. By March 1995, the tide had begun to turn. The Bosnian army, once a disorganized force of civilians, had grown stronger. They launched new offensives in the northeast, striking at Serbian positions. The Serbian response was merciless. On May 26, 1995, Sarajevo was drowned in artillery fire, a bombardment meant to break the city’s will once and for all. But instead of surrender, Sarajevo’s suffering provoked fury. NATO launched a second wave of airstrikes, hammering Serbian strongholds. By August 11, 1995, Sarajevo was barely clinging to life. The siege had left the city in ruins, its people exhausted, starving, and battered by war. Recognizing the dire situation, U.S. President Bill Clinton sent his top negotiator, Richard Holbrooke, to bring an end to the bloodshed. But the war was not done taking lives. On August 28, 1995, a Serbian mortar struck Sarajevo’s main marketplace, once a bustling center of daily life. In an instant, 37 civilians lay dead, 85 more maimed and bleeding in the streets. The massacre forced NATO’s hand. Just 48 hours later, warplanes filled the skies over Bosnia. NATO and UN forces unleashed a punishing bombardment on Serbian military positions, the largest air campaign of the war. The operation, codenamed Deliberate Force, was relentless. Serbian forces, after years of unchecked brutality, now found themselves on the receiving end of superior firepower. By September 14, 1995, they finally relented, withdrawing their heavy weaponry from Sarajevo’s perimeter. A month later, on October 12, 1995, the guns finally fell silent. A ceasefire took effect as Croat, Bosnian Muslim, and Serbian leaders met in Dayton, Ohio, to decide Bosnia’s future. Over four years of siege, Sarajevo had endured a relentless horror. More than 10,500 of its people were killed, men, women, children, none spared. Those who remained suffered through starvation, power outages, and the constant specter of death. Humanitarian aid trickled in, carried by international relief flights, but Serbian forces controlled the flow. At times, they allowed supplies to pass. At others, they blocked the roads and runways, using starvation as a weapon. On November 21, 1995, after weeks of intense negotiations, the Dayton Agreement was signed. Bosnia’s war was over, at least on paper. The treaty was formally ratified in Paris, signed by the three men who had commanded nations at war: Franjo Tuđman of Croatia, Alija Izetbegović of Bosnia, and Slobodan Milošević, representing Serbia and the Bosnian Serbs. To enforce the fragile peace, NATO deployed 60,000 troops to Bosnia-Herzegovina. Their presence ensured compliance with the treaty and, for the first time in years, brought a semblance of stability to a land that had known only war.

The Siege of Sarajevo remains one of the longest and bloodiest in modern history. It was not just a military struggle, it was a brutal campaign of ethnic cleansing, a battle for survival, and a testament to human resilience. For nearly four years, the city endured ceaseless bombardment, starvation, and terror. The war may have ended in 1995, but the scars it left, both on Bosnia and on the world, remain to this day. This is history at its most brutal. And it must never be forgotten.