Serbia: Is This How It Ends—or How It Begins?

In a time of an overwhelming flood of information about dramatic and important events across the world (from Palestine to Ukraine and Alaska—not to mention China and the trade war), it can happen that you overlook something literally right under your nose. In fact, I have written twice before about the events in Serbia, which have been unfolding for ten months now—but the crisis has continued to escalate at varying speeds, with no resolution in sight. In such circumstances, it’s easy to see why and how we choose to ignore something important, “waiting” for some breaking news involving violence and blood. That’s exactly what has happened these days… Just as the world’s eyes are turned toward the meeting between Trump and Putin, with expectations and hopes colliding with cynicism and realism, the news from my neighborhood suddenly “woke me up.”

Even though I know the background, and even knew that this wouldn’t end well, I still followed with shock yesterday (August 14) the events of the previous night in Novi Sad, Belgrade, and several other Serbian cities. Instead of tuning in to popular global podcasts, I spent hours searching for the truth about what was really happening—that is, “who started the violent escalation.” The recorded scenes (regardless of who filmed them or which outlet broadcast them) are frightening, especially those from the night of August 13. The toll of injured participants in the street fights, as well as police officers, is very high—veteran observers (the older ones) say they don’t remember such hatred pouring into the streets, not even in the 1990s.

From the confused addresses of President Vučić and Interior Minister Dačić, the only clear takeaway is that not only special police forces were deployed, but also the military. A soldier even fired a warning shot into the air for self-defense (his own and that of several colleagues). The photograph capturing the fear on these professionals’ faces is sending waves of near-ecstatic satisfaction through opponents of Aleksandar Vučić’s regime. Last night brought a follow-up, with similar scenes that various experts, journalists, intellectuals, and political figures tried to analyze this morning.

I conducted my own research by contacting colleagues from the academic community whom I respect and trust. The problem is that (just like with other crisis hotspots and the mainstream media) you don’t know whom to believe, whether in domestic or foreign outlets. It seems that truth is the first casualty not only of conventional wars but also of something that resembles a civil war. Honestly, even the people I reached out to responded either with confusion (some were on vacation far from the events; they say that for the sake of mental health, it’s necessary to distance oneself from this constant “civil war without weapons”) or briefly, with deep concern but without the energy to analyze. One journalist laconically quoted a well-known intellectual: “This is one shitty petty-bourgeois dump!”. He explained this meeting took place some time ago, while having coffee in a long silence. She told him: “Comrade, write this down—you might need it soon.”

From my outsider’s perspective, I can conclude that fear and deep concern dominate (there are even comparisons to the collapse of former Yugoslavia or even Syria: “this is how it started back then, and we know how it ended”. Few have the time for analysis or for diagnosing and prescribing solutions for a situation heading toward a dramatic climax.

The initial spark came after the collapse of a canopy in Novi Sad, along with accusations of corruption and demands for the rule of law back in November 2024. Then came a student protest, which grew into a broader civic movement. By its scenario, methods of action, mobilization tools, and non-political messages, I saw elements of a color revolution. My friend Srećko Horvat from Croatia would later call the students and their protests “geopolitical orphans,” because their demands for regime change came at the worst possible time for the demonstrators—no one cared then, and no one cares now, about Serbia. Both the West and Russia, or any other potentially involved party, have bigger problems of their own. Vučić plays the superhero of the multipolar world, trying to appease everyone: Brussels, Washington, Moscow, and Beijing. He exports weapons to both Ukraine and Israel, while importing energy from Russia. But domestically, the economic and social crisis has spilled into the streets.

After long years in power, those at the top lose touch with reality (this was the case in Macedonia as well, with then–Prime Minister Gruevski in 2014–2016; incidentally, he too tried to “sit on several chairs,” as the saying goes, balancing between multiple geopolitical forces, but without many trump cards—Macedonia is a small and poor country).

Following the largest protests in Serbia in March, the previously non-political students adopted a political agenda, demanding early parliamentary elections and the president’s resignation. Many saw in them a romantic possibility for something young, new, and politically innocent, casting the students (without degrees or life and political experience) as saviors. But for a society already in deep crisis and polarized, they were too weak a force to lead toward anything truly radically new and different. Meanwhile, countless smaller civic and political groups attached themselves to the movement, revealing that the word “opposition” (even against an autocratic leader) does not necessarily mean progressive or democratic content.

Just when the situation seemed to have eased slightly (due to exhaustion, the resumption of the school year—which has been effectively lost for both students and pupils—and summer holidays), all the uncontrolled anger suddenly resurfaced. It’s pointless to start here with the usual question of “who started” the violence. That way lies the vicious circle that has brought us to this abyss. I think the best definition after the second night of protests came from an analyst who, deeply concerned, said he saw two groups of people equally ready to beat each other to death.

The essence of the problem must be reduced to the most urgent issue: the question of violence itself! When physical violence breaks out, it’s clear that it is merely the manifest display of the presence of structural and cultural violence. Structural violence can be found in a regime that relies on repression and arrogance at the expense of the common good—and for many years at that. This is why, from the outset, protest against such a regime is usually considered justified. Vučić’s “success” is that over the years he has managed to shatter the political fabric, fragment it, and prevent any real political rival from emerging. On the other hand, it must be noted that opposition Serbia was nonetheless nurtured and educated by Western structures (those that prepare color revolutions and present the world in black-and-white terms). They know how, in the name of democracy, to demonize. And once someone is a demon, there’s no talking to them—only dehumanizing them.

The nationalist opposition (the far right) seeks to topple Vučić on the grounds that he is not tough enough (especially on the Kosovo issue). This means that in addition to structural violence, there is also cultural violence—which, through narratives, slogans, and symbols, legitimizes the use of violence to achieve political goals. Unfortunately, in this general chaos there is no sufficiently clear and attractive authentic democratic and peaceful movement, with a clear vision for a different Serbia.

Optimists in Serbia hope for elections as soon as possible—as if elections could solve the social crisis and polarization (on the contrary, elections often deepen divisions). Moreover, it is still unclear who in those elections could represent a strong enough opposition to replace Vučić and his Serbian People’s Party (SNS). The opposition is fragmented, and for the past two or three days even divided over the very legitimacy of the use of violence. It could even be said that the violent street protests (which in the coming period could escalate to the point of costing lives) devalue the struggle of those who were on the right side, alienating those who oppose both authoritarianism and violence.

Serbia remains on the margins of the news, even in the region. Yet its importance for peace and stability in the Balkans is immense. If it truly begins to unravel, as many fear, it will become prey to a geopolitical redefinition of the entire region, with wider implications. In this text I have deliberately avoided mentioning the little drama in Bosnia and Herzegovina, where the illegally appointed High Representative (effectively a governor) is interfering in the constitutional order and the autonomy of this federal entity in the name of “democracy”—as he understands it. Regardless of my personal dislike for Republika Srpska’s Milorad Dodik, the fact remains that the fate of this federal unit, home to part of the Serbs in the region, will create additional chaos in a region that has not yet healed from the wounds of Yugoslavia’s dissolution.