Seeing the images of Israel pounding the ancient city of Tyre in the past week, as well as ordering the evacuation of the entire city on Tuesday, got me reeling. I grew up in the Balkan War of the 90s—bombing historic sites, churches, mosques, harbors, and civilian infrastructures is uncomfortably familiar to me.
My hometown is built around an ancient Roman palace—1,800 years old, called Diocletian’s Palace. If you’ve watched Game of Thrones, you’ve seen the ancient walls of Split. Like historic sites in Tyre, Diocletian’s Palace is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Diocletian's Palace is what the entire identity of the citizens of Split is built on. During the Balkan War, the Yugoslav Army and Navy launched a heavy artillery naval attack on the city. The Yugoslav Navy destroyer Split—ironically bearing the city's name—opened fire on Split, hitting the city center and the port, with Diocletian's Palace among its targets.
The Yugoslav Navy specifically targeted civilian infrastructure, the harbor, and historic parts of Split, all protected under UNESCO World Heritage status, causing widespread panic. Luckily, the naval shell landed just a few yards outside the Golden Gate of Diocletian's Palace. Hitting the palace offered no military advantage. It was personal. It was an attempt at erasure.
After the Battle of the Dalmatian Channels resulted in a major Croatian Navy victory that broke the Yugoslav naval blockade of Split, it forced the Yugoslav Army and Navy to retreat south.
Furious over this naval setback, their inability to take Split, and the ass-whooping they received from a Croatian Navy that had been barely pieced together from civilian vessels, captured equipment, and defecting personnel, Yugoslav forces turned their wrath on the undefended city of Dubrovnik, another UNESCO World Heritage Site. Another Game of Thrones location—yes, the King's Landing.
The blockade and siege of Dubrovnik lasted eight months. The most infamous bombardment, known as the Black Friday Attack, consisted of artillery, naval, and air assaults directed at the UNESCO-protected Old Town.
From. All. Sides. Imaginable.
The city was pounded with such zeal, such fury, making it clear the objective was not military victory or a simplistic land grab, but an attack on culture, heritage, and identity.
More than 11,000 historic buildings were damaged. The Old Town was looted and burned. Monuments, palaces, and churches were engulfed in flames. The entire city of Dubrovnik was left without electricity or water for three months. 194 Croatian military personnel were killed. 88 civilians lost their lives.
The unprovoked, deliberate targeting of a globally celebrated demilitarized zone shocked the world. Dubrovnik had no active military bases, heavy artillery, or soldiers stationed inside the old walls. Its status as an open, undefended cultural sanctuary is why the international community was so deeply shocked by the bombardment.
Attacking such a high-profile cultural landmark without any strategic military objective was an attack on the Croatian people’s morale—a deliberate assault on culture, history, and identity. All while the Yugoslav Army, under Serbian leadership, claimed its actions were defensive.
Every war is built on the same principle: the aggressor claims to be protecting its own security while seeking to expand its territory, blaming the people whose land it covets for resisting and portraying them as a threat to its survival—with the help of a compliant media.
