The Unquiet Dead Read online

  Chapter 33.

  We saw our sons and husbands off to those woods and never found out anything about them again.

  Mirsada Malagić, a Bosnian Muslim woman. She testified on 3 and 4 April 2000 in the case against Radislav Krstić and on 16 February 2011 in the case against Zdravko Tolimir. Mirsada Malagić’s complete “Voice of the Victims” statement is available through the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia at http://www.icty.org/sid/191.

  Today no man from our family is older than thirty.

  Mirnesa Ahmić, Srebrenica survivor. Quoted in “Srebrenica Survivor: Today No Man from Our Family Is Older Than Thirty,” Today’s Zaman (8 July 2011). Available online at http://www.todayszaman.com/news-249880-srebrenica-survivor-today-no-man-from-our-family-is-older-than-30.html.

  I seek refuge in the Lord of Daybreak, from the evil of that which He created. From the evil of the black darkness wherever it descends.

  Sura Falaq, “The Daybreak.” Qur’an 113.

  Chapter 34.

  I knew all of them who did it. They were my neighbors.

  Eighteen-year-old rape survivor Ziba Hasanović, as quoted in Roy Gutman, A Witness to Genocide (Macmillan Publishing, 1993), 76.

  Keep the good ones over there. Enjoy yourselves.

  General Ratko Mladić during the fall of Srebrenica, July 1995, as quoted in Adam LeBor, Complicity with Evil: the United Nations in the Age of Modern Genocide (R. R. Donnelley, 2001), 44.

  Everything around us is on fire and we ourselves are nearly smoldering.

  Paraphrased from Abdulah Ahmić, a Bosnian Muslim man, testifying about the massacre in the central Bosnian village of Ahmići, one of the conflict’s most brutal acts of ethnic cleansing. His brother and father were murdered in front of him by Croat soldiers and he survived attempted murder. Abdulah Ahmić testified on 10 and 11 June 1999 in the case against Dario Kordić, member of the Presidency of the Croatian Community of Herceg-Bosnia, and Mario Čerkez, commander of the Vitez Brigade of the Croatian Defense Council (HVO). They received their final judgment on 17 December 2004. Abdulah Ahmić’s complete “Voice of the Victims” statement is available through the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia at http://www.icty.org/sid/10118.

  Chapter 35.

  The dead are not alone.

  Paraphrased from “Remarks by High Representative and EU Special Representative Valentin Inzko at the Memorial Ceremony for Victims of Genocide, Srebrenica, 11 July 2009” (Office of the High Representative, 2009). Available at http://www.ohr.int/ohr-dept/presso/presssp/default.asp?content_id=43702.

  Chapter 36.

  I cannot find words for what happened there.

  Slobodan Milošević speaking to the European Union President Javier Solana about Srebrenica. Srebenica: Reconstruction, Background, Consequences and Analyses of the Fall of a “Safe” Area (Netherlands Institute of War Documentation, 2000): part 4, chapter 2, p. 91. Available online at http://www.srebrenica-project.com/DOWNLOAD/NOD/NIOD%20Part%20IV.pdf

  Your Honours, I feel that my confession is an important step toward the rebuilding of confidence and co-existence in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and after my guilty plea and sentencing, after I have served my sentence, it is my wish to go back to my native town of Bratunac and to live there with other peoples in peace and harmony, such as prevailed before the outbreak of the war.

  Momir Nikolić, “Statement of Guilt” (29 October 2003), available through the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia at http://www.icty.org/sid/218.

  Chapter 37.

  Nothing can give me resolution. Nothing can give me consolation.

  Hasan Nuhanović, translator at the UN base in Potočari. Srebrenica: A Cry from the Grave, directed by Leslie Woodhead ([distributor Thirteen/WNET PBS], 1999).

  Acknowledgments

  To the many people who deserve my thanks for contributing to a book that has been so personal to me. My deep gratitude to everyone at Minotaur Books and St. Martin’s Press for taking a chance on The Unquiet Dead and bringing it to life. I am especially indebted to my exemplary editor, Elizabeth Lacks, who believed in this book so wholly, and who championed it with such unwavering commitment. Her many brilliant suggestions improved it in every way.

  My thanks to Inspector William Ford (Retired) for his invaluable and very kind advice on policing in Ontario. And to Mir Ali, Director of the Amherst School of Guitar, for generously taking the time to explain how Albinoni’s Adagio might be written and orchestrated. And my sincere appreciation to Professor D. Fairchild Ruggles, who graciously permitted me to use her exquisite translation of Ibn Arabi’s Ringsong. And to Stephen Hirtenstein of the Ibn ‘Arabi Society for his expert guidance on sources.

  My warmest thanks to Faye Kennedy, Steve Bowering, Elena Kovyrzina, and Rob Hunter, who taught me so much about publishing, and whose values embody the Canadian spirit better than anyone I know. Just know—we’ll always have Paris.

  And I owe an immeasurable debt of gratitude to my family and friends, for their continual love and support. Especially my parents, whose lifelong example taught me the dignity, compassion, and human decency to be found in faith. I owe them more than I can possibly express, but I hope this book will speak for me.

  And to my sister, Ayesha Shaikh, my first reader since childhood, my greatest friend in life, and the most ardent believer in all my dreams, including this book. Thank you for bringing my milk money to school, just the first in a lifetime of rescues. And to Omer Shaikh, big brother, for letting me tag along everywhere.

  To my brother, Irfan Khan, for everything he contributed to Esa Khattak, and for making me think about Bosnia in much more rigorous ways. I’m more grateful than I can say for his love and generosity—it enriches every aspect of my life, and always has.

  To my brother, Kashif Khan, co-founder of the Republic. For taking care of me for so long, and with such love, that I can’t imagine anything else. For Pennygrams, phone calls, time-share vacations—and that constant stream of presents in the mail. (Send another one soon.)

  To my niece, Summer Shaikh. For bringing so much love, laughter, and adventure into my life. And my nephew, Casim Shaikh, for being my champion from the beginning. Both, the most precious of all precious things. When you get knocked down, remember to get up again.

  To Dr. Nozhat Choudry, reader of ragged manuscripts, keeper of writing timetables, and awe-inspiring, undisputed soul sister. For all the ways she encourages and guides me, and for the love of those beautiful girls, Zahra, Hanna, and Maariya.

  To Hema Nagar, for taking this manuscript to India and nurturing it in a magical place, just as she’s nurtured me. And for being my other, more wholesome and nefarious, half. The love and decency of her friendship mean everything to me.

  To Farah Bukhari, for the most genuine love a dearly loved friend and sister can give while suffering heartbreak. She has the courage of the lionhearted, which perhaps she does not know.

  To my adopted parents, Uncle Munir and Auntie Aira, for lifelong encouragement and love. And for the unmitigated belief of a feisty little Finn.

  And to Mum and Baba and the Hashemi family, for all their love and faith. Especially Fereshteh, with whom I have shared such a deep love of books. And my companion in adventure, Noor Shaikh (allo, matey!).

  To my family in Pakistan, Canada, and England, who transmit their pride and encouragement across oceans and continents, particularly my aunt, the distinguished novelist Shakila Khan, my devoted aunt Sameena Tahseen, and my unconquerable grandmother Niaz Fatima Khan.

  And to my cousins Saad, Athif, and Akif Khan, and Zohaib Siddiqui, for helping in so many ways.

  And to a deeply cherished group of friends, for the moments that have made up the whole. Farah and Saima Malik, Afshan Ahmad, Najia Usman, Haseeba Yusuf, and Seema Nundy: readers of early works, partners in memorable performances, and steadfast companions in various hijinks.

  Afshan Javed, for incomparable letters from Arabia and friendship
beyond measure.

  Farah Choudhry and Nihan Keser, for those years of fearless joy and discovery in Ottawa. And all the times we skated at midnight.

  Yasser Khan for being so much a part of those years.

  Asma Amjad, for making me welcome.

  Aysha Nusrat, for so much kindness in a strange city.

  Wisam Karawan, the most beautiful girl from Gaza. With whom I crossed impassable borders.

  Jennifer, for travels through Cairo and Jordan, and the Nuweiba crossing at dawn.

  Lena Johansson, for Samarkand, dreams of Alamut, and so much else.

  Yara Masri, for laughter and solidarity at the Dome of the Rock. And all the girls of Qasr al-Hamra.

  Iram Ahmed, for larks. And for the love she gives to what is priceless to me.

  Uzma Alam, my much-loved sister, for the conversations that have warmed the years and made us wise. And for reading the stories I write for Layth, Maysa, and Zayna, my light and joy.

  Yasmin, Semina, and Kamran Ahmad, who grew up to make me so proud with their courage, grace, and boundless hearts.

  And most of all, to my husband, Nader Hashemi, the love of my life. For the matchless faith that has made my dreams possible. For encouragement, advice, and the easing of every hardship. And for being who he is. How sweet this life has been with your love.

  About the Author

  Ausma Zehanat Khan holds a Ph.D. in international human rights law with a specialization in military intervention and war crimes in the Balkans. She is a former adjunct law professor and was editor-in-chief of Muslim Girl magazine, the first magazine targeted to young Muslim women. A British-born Canadian, Khan now lives in Denver, Colorado, with her husband. The Unquiet Dead is her first novel.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  THE UNQUIET DEAD. Copyright © 2014 by Ausma Kehanat Kahn. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.minotaurbooks.com

  Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  Cover photographs: woman © John Foley / Arcangel Images; gallows © Patty Maher / Arcangel Images; buildings © Elisabeth Ansley / Trevillion Images; envelope © Andrey_Kuzmin / Shutterstock.com

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  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-1-250-05511-8 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-4668-5831-2 (e-book)

  e-ISBN 9781466858312

  First Edition: January 2015