It is July 1995 in Srebrenica, Bosnia. The Bosnian Serb general Ratko Mladic is shouting at the Dutch commander Thom Karremans. “Don’t tell me nonsense,” bawls Mladic, through an interpreter. “Answer my questions! Did you give orders to fire at my troops?” The moustachioed Karremans is rubbing his face slowly. He looks like a man trapped in a nightmare. “I gave the order to defend themself,” he said.
In video footage recorded by a Serbian cameraman at the time – the authenticity of which is not disputed – Mladic puffs his cigarette. He leans in. He knows exactly what he is doing. Placing his hand on the wall behind Karremans, he says: “You are here to help the Muslims and the Croats.” Karremans looks exhausted. He rubs his eyes, and mumbles something about a piano.
“I’m sorry?” asks the interpreter. Karremans elucidates: “I am a piano player. Don’t shoot the piano player.”