By Ivan Urkov l Poskok
Interpol’s rejection of a red notice for Milorad Dodik and Nenad Stevandić wasn’t just a bureaucratic decision — it was an international signal. A declaration that the judiciary of Bosnia and Herzegovina, under the invisible hand of Christian Schmidt, had crossed a red line: transforming political defiance into a criminal act.
But there’s a far more disturbing revelation underneath:
The man behind the charges doesn’t even exist in Bosnia’s Constitution.
The ghost in the legal machine
Christian Schmidt, the High Representative in Bosnia and Herzegovina, holds sweeping power. He can impose laws, override governments, and now — attempt to criminalize entity-level leaders.
The only problem?
The Constitution of Bosnia and Herzegovina does not recognize the position of High Representative.
He is a legal fiction, tolerated by political inertia and Western pressure, but without any defined role in the supreme legal document of the country.
Article 208a: Schmidt exposes himself
For the first time in post-Dayton history, a criminal statute was drafted that literally criminalizes the disobedience of “the High Representative.”
“Whoever fails to implement the decisions of the High Representative shall be punished…”
That line effectively elevates a non-constitutional foreign figure to the status of supreme legal authority.
He could have written “Santa Claus,” and it would carry the same constitutional value.
By putting himself in the law, Schmidt didn’t just overreach — he outed himself as an unaccountable lawmaker operating above all domestic institutions, without checks, and immune from legal consequences.
Dodik and Stevandić: Proxies in a broader war
Milorad Dodik and Nenad Stevandić were never the targets — they were instruments.
By attempting to criminalize them, Schmidt hoped to force Dodik toward Moscow, spark a Balkan-Russian flashpoint, and feed Washington’s Cold War narrative.
This was never about Bosnia.
It was about Russia.
It was about disrupting any future Trump-led normalization of U.S.–Russia relations by creating facts on the ground — chaos, prosecution, division — which Trump would inherit and struggle to undo.
Schmidt: The last Biden soldier from the Balkans
With Biden fading and Trump rising, Schmidt is left behind — the last functioning asset of a collapsed foreign policy.
No longer a peacekeeper. No longer a mediator.
He’s now a legal anomaly — a man writing laws for a country that never appointed him, never elected him, and never defined him.
And with Interpol’s rejection, the illusion is collapsing.
Trump may not have returned to the White House yet — but his political momentum is enough to cast a shadow over every last remnant of the Biden-era regime architecture.
Which raises the final question:
What will Trump’s administration do with Schmidt, the man who criminalized a president through a job that doesn’t constitutionally exist?