Since 1988, I have been to the country formally known as Yugoslavia almost every year. I was lucky enough to receive a British Council Studentship in 1989 that allowed me to study at the University of Ljubljana, which proved a great base not only to read about but to explore the region. At that time, Bosnians lived in every republic of the country taking their culture, food, religious practices and upbeat worldview with them. There was a discernible uneasiness about daily interactions between Yugoslavs by this time and the political system looked shaky. Nationalism seemed to be on the rise and almost everywhere I went people would stop me to talk about the wrongs that had been committed against their nation. The exception to this general pattern of urgency and radicalization seemed to be in Bosnia. Staying with a Croat family in Hercegovina in 1990, I was told about the way in which they respected the religion of their neighbours while we all watched an Orthodox service on the television. This embrace of tolerance, which has sometimes been described as the Bosnian spirit (bosanski duh), was not just the forced repetition of the Communist regime's mantra of brotherhood and unity and it came from the heart. If Bosnia came late to nationalism, then it suffered the most for its tardiness and the belief of its citizens that a multi-faith society was possible, even preferable.

As a historian I have always been fascinated by the change that occurs over time as well as the deeper currents that only move very slowly. It is unlikely that many regions have changed as much in those years. In just one generation, Bosnia has generated more history than most of its inhabitants would have wanted. I started to write this book in the summer of 2011 in Sarajevo and travelled through many of the towns mentioned here including Bugojno, Jajce, Livno and Travnik and was at all times struck by the energy, intellectual zest and vision of the Bosnians that I met.