WHEN HONOR IS MORE VALUABLE THAN LIFE

Author: Šefko Sulejmanović, PhD, Institute for Social and Religious Research in Tuzla • Illustration: Maiden's Turbe in Gornja Tuzla • Photo: E. Šečić

Since ancient times, stories about the righteous and good people have been told. There is almost no place in our dear Bosnia and Herzegovina without a grave or a turbe (mausoleum) which is related to a supernatural story about the righteous, or people who laid down their lives to save others, or their face, their or someone else's honor. Thus, the two Tuzlas, both Gornja (Upper) and Donja (Lower), have their legends, which have been kept and preserved among our people up to this day. Each turbe has a story of its own about human dignity, courage and selfless willingness for sacrifice. It is impressively confirmed by stories about two girls' turbes, one in Donja and the other in Gornja Tuzla.

Today's Maidens' turbe at Mejdan, in Donja Tuzla, was originally situated near the Jalska Mosque. When a road was widened in 1948, the turbe was relocated to a safer site – to Mejdan. Regardless of its site – next to the Jalska Mosque or at Mejdan, the narrative about it is exactly the same. It is associated with the arrival of Austro-Hungary in Bosnia in the late 19th century and attitude of its authorities toward Bosniaks, their religion, culture and tradition. The legend goes that two girls washed rugs on a stone slab by the river Jala. A group of Austrian soldiers was passing by along the road by the Jala. Intending to play a cruel joke with the girls in Muslim costume, their officer approached one of them and ripped the scarf off her head. The girl could not bear such a shame, for a stranger to see her face. She hit him on the head with the wooden bat and he began bleeding. Humiliated and shamed, the officer mortally wounded both girls from a firearm. They were buried at the place where they dropped dead and, as a sign of honor, people erected a turbe for them, which still exists.

At the entrance to Gornja Tuzla, on the right side of the road going from Donja Tuzla, one can see the Maiden's turbe. The legend about the turbe in Gornja Tuzla is similar to the legend about the Maidens' turbe at Mejdan, although it is somewhat older than the former. The narrative, which is passed from one generation to another, goes that Hungarian soldiers stealthily raided Gornja Tuzla on an Eid morning intending to occupy, plunder and burn it while the men attended the Eid prayer. One girl who went to the river Jala to get water in the morning spotted the concealed armed soldiers and ran toward a nearby musalla (praying space), where men were gathering for the Eid prayer. Fearing that they would be discovered, Hungarian soldiers caught up with her but could not overpower her until a soldier slit her throat. Although mortally wounded, the girl reached the musalla. She was buried at the place where she fell. People erected a turbe above her grave, which still preserves the story about an unknown girl, her courage and saving of Gornja Tuzla.  The turbe was renewed several times in the past. It is famous among people and frequently visited.

There is no need to search for data about the time and reasons of erecting these turbes, or names of the unknown girls, in historical sources. They are not essential; what is important is the message about human, especially girls', honor and dignity. All the three girls were adorned with virgin intactness and, according to old Bosniak customs, their place was not among the dead in the cemetery but were rather supposed to rest by the river (I. Taljić). Our ancestors remembered them by erecting turbes for them, thus preserving the innocence of maidens' honor as unrepeatable treasure.

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Recent history has also shown that at times of dishonor, woman's face was a merciless target. In his short story “Za obraz” (For the face), writer Alija Nametak, who was sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment in 1945, conveys the confession of Bećir Đuliman, a refugee of Herzegovina, who killed his own daughter Ajka to preserve her maiden's honor during the Second World War. AT the end of his painful confession, Bećir says: 

“I feared for nobody as for her. It is not a big deal to die, only, my God, with faith in Islam, when our time comes. But I feared for Ajka, God forbid, that enemies might hurt her honor. Since, my brothers, I don't say it because she is mine, because she is my child, but because God gave her health and stature, and beautiful looks. What does the enemy know, what the face is what pride is, and his favorite target is a maiden's or a bride's honor. I prayed to God, if he does not take compassion and save us, to take my female children to Himself, not to allow infidels to take revenge on them.

I would have even forgiven him Vejsil's blood, but he did not care and took Ajka by the hand, and the other one, I still don't know his name, pulled her by the other hand out of the house. I watched all this with my own eyes and I knew that it was a God's will, and someone had deserved it, but something was preventing me from running out madly if I could, and I was pleased when I saw that my daughters-in-law expired without letting the enemies to get satisfaction with them.

I sneaked out of my shelter and peered to the yard. A stack of hay was burning like a torch. Ajka was being pulled at the arms by Galanos and another enemy.

-       Dad, I'm so miserable – Ajka cried and my heart was breaking. – Can't you help me?

I realized that I could not seize her. It would have been difficult even if there had been only one, because he was young and my strength was on the wane, and there were two, such heavy-sets.

-       I'm coming, my child – I shouted and unscrewed the cap on the bomb.

-       Forgive your dad!

The enemies looked back and Galanos let Ajka's hand off and took the gun. I knocked the bomb against a rock, held in in the hand for a couple of seconds and threw it among them. And the luck had it, it blew all the three of them off. (...)

-       Why did you kill your child for Godness sake? – someone from the pub asked.

-       For the face’s sake! (...)

-       Yeah, my brothers, everything for face, and face for nothing in the world.”

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What the maiden honor means for a Muslim girl, when one touches what should not be touched, is proverbially confirmed by words of a girl from Sandžak who, during the Second World War, chetniks' dishonor and mass slaughtering of Muslims across Sandžak, helpless, in a pleading voice, asks her executioners: “Spare my honor, I forgive you your lives” (R. Muminović). Writing about the horrors of Srebrenica in the summer of 1995, Nedžad Avdić and his sister Amela say the following in their publicized testimonies: “Death is easier than raping, dishonoring and abusing, which chetniks are inclined to.“ Here is what they say about the eldest sister Hurija, who was only fifteen: „If Serbs spot her and take her away, we could not bear it.“ (A. Avdić, 121) Such force of violence and dishonor could not be endured by humble Ferida Osmanović (31), a mother of two, in Srebrenica in the summer of 1995. After the Army of Republika Srpska slaughtered her husband Selman (37), on the second night spent in the concentration camp in Potočari, Ferida put her two children (Damir and Fatima) to sleep on the trodden grass and then ended the life by hanging herself from a nearby hornbeam tree. Photograph The Hanging Woman from Srebrenica is a powerful symbol of betrayal of Srebrenica, and of Bosnia, a photograph which made front pages around the world and which made the world cry – Kim Wilsher, a reporter of The Guardian.

Every story is as valuable as it is instructive, as it will remind and help, particularly if it is about people among us, for whom honor is more valuable than life.

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