Youth from Croatia and Serbia Send a Powerful Message
On the 31st anniversary of Operation Storm, they published a joint open letter calling for confronting different memories and acknowledging each other's pain.
On the 31st anniversary of Operation Storm, they published a joint open letter calling for confronting different memories and acknowledging each other's pain.
On the 31st anniversary of the military-police operation Storm, a group of young people from Croatia and Serbia published a joint open letter on August 5, 2026. In it, they call for a fundamentally different view of wartime suffering and the relations between the two countries, emphasizing that the perspectives they represent are almost entirely suppressed from the public sphere.
The letter was created during a joint exchange, and in it, the authors speak about the generational experience of growing up with completely opposing narratives. "If you were born after 1995, there is a high probability that you learned about Operation Storm from people who already knew what you should think. Some told you it was the greatest victory. Others said it was the greatest tragedy," reads the letter, as reported by Telegram.hr.
The authors warn that the dominant stories say too little about concrete human destinies. "Rarely did anyone ask you if you know what it looks like when a child first realizes they no longer have a home. No one asked you if you know what silence sounds like after the door closes on a house you may never see again. No one asked you how many years it takes for a person to say to someone again: 'I am home here.'"
They emphasize that they grew up in different countries, learned from different textbooks, and listened to different anthems, but they believe that no version of history can encompass the whole truth. "We may never share the same memory of Operation Storm. But we can share the same attitude toward human pain," they say.
The letter critically addresses political elites, who they say have spent years building opposing narratives, using victims to confirm their own righteousness. "While some celebrated victory without mentioning the crimes committed, others built politics on the loss of victims for decades, turning them into symbols instead of offering them a dignified life. For too long, victims have served as proof that 'our' side is always right and 'their' side is always wrong. A mother's pain is the same, whether she is Croatian or Serbian."
The authors also broaden the focus to include people who lost their homes, the elderly who couldn't flee, children who grew up as refugees, and neighbors who never looked each other in the eye again after the war. "Some neighbors stopped being that in 1991, some said goodbye to their own in 1995."
The letter concludes with a call to take responsibility and acknowledge the suffering of others. "It is time to confront each other. It is time to gather the courage to admit our responsibility. It is time to see the suffering of the other."
It ends with a simple but powerful message that reminds us of geographical and human closeness: "What are we waiting for? We are still neighbors."
