Under Siege

No bridge of sighs has seen more to lament than the Stari Most spanning the Neretva River in historic Mostar. Last week, as a precarious cease-fire held in central Bosnia, the bridge, festooned with old automobile tires in a gallant attempt to protect it from the ravages of shell and mortar fire, stood in testimony to the most fervent hope of the trapped citizens of this shattered town -- that somehow the yawning gap between war and peace can be bridged and life allowed to resume again.

With the peace talks in Geneva flickering on the brink of collapse, however, such hopes appear forlorn, and for the moment the beleaguered citizens of Mostar's mainly Muslim eastern quarter are surviving day to day on whatever aid can be negotiated past the city's Croat besiegers. Last week Muslim civilians released U.N. troops they had held for more than a week as a shield against Croat shelling, making a resumption of aid possible. But unless peace comes soon, U.N. aid can only postpone the death of one of Bosnia and Herzegovina's most beautiful and historic cities.

In the western section of Mostar, the Croats clean their weapons and wait. More than 10,000 Muslims are reportedly being held in a detention center near the city and in four other towns to the south. Breaking with a long-standing policy of diplomatic silence, the International Committee of the Red Cross has reported severe malnutrition among camp inmates; Muslims have filled out the details with reports of brutal beatings and even torture. The perdition visible in these pictures only begins to reflect the impossibility of putting the heritage of peaceful coexistence back together again in Mostar -- a difficulty reflected sadly throughout the rest of Bosnia and Herzegovina.