A Colored Revolution in Serbia

Once Again?

An increasing number of Macedonian students and citizens ask me, often with resignation: “Professor, why don’t we have protests like those in Serbia?” They say, “Look at those brave young people, standing firm and fighting en masse for a better country. See how they turned a seemingly isolated incident—the collapse of a canopy in Novi Sad—into a broad agenda of demands against Vučić’s long-standing authoritarian regime! Why are we like zombies? Why don’t we have protests of that kind here?”

For a moment, I’m taken aback, and I wonder: Don’t they remember? It was just ten years ago, when we went through something very similar. What began as widespread admiration for student protests ended in a so-called Colorful Revolution—a movement spurred and orchestrated from abroad. But, of course, these people are much younger and likely know very little about the events that left us with deep scars.

Looking back now, many of us who had “had enough” (myself included) unwittingly played the role of useful idiots. At the outset, we believed we were waging a legitimate battle to protect the constitutionally guaranteed autonomy of the university. That goal was entirely legitimate—just as the collapse of the concrete awning collapsed at the recently renovated Novi Sad in Serbia and the lack of rule of law is—but it eventually became clear that this was merely the pretext. Even the Macedonian students admitted later that not everything had been as spontaneous as it appeared. They revealed there had been preparatory meetings, logistical support, and assistance of all kinds.

In other words, the stage and the methods had already been set: there was a pre-written script, genuine actors (not always those in the front lines), financial backing, a plan, and an overarching goal—to engineer regime change from the outside. I vividly recall how many scholars and intellectuals from Serbia—and far beyond—admired us and offered their support.

From today’s vantage point, it’s easy to see how genuine enthusiasm and legitimate demands can be co-opted and redirected to serve external agendas. Perhaps this lingering awareness explains why today’s students are hesitant to act—or perhaps the scars of that turbulent time still weigh too heavily on us all.

But while we were caught up in the euphoria of (self-)organizing "from below" into "independent and self-managing plenums"—an idea borrowed from Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina—some semblance of real participatory democracy seemed to be emerging. Even the Faculty of Philosophy gained the status of a "Liberated Zone," where people ate, drank, slept, and even held performances. Public intellectuals emerged to give lectures in the faculty’s main hall, transforming it into what resembled an "open university." Yet, behind the scenes, the central act was being prepared.

By the book. Following the instructions of the State Department, the CIA, UNDP, NED, and others, the groundwork was already laid for what my dear American colleague Gary Sussman once called a template revolution. The process of plenarization—this self-managed and ostensibly apolitical method of decision-making and activism—quickly transformed into the political movement "I Protest" (#IProtest) and spilled onto the streets and squares.

At first, it all still seemed "absolutely (democratically) romantic,", especially in a country where the dominant slogans have long been "a bowed head avoids the sword" and "silence is blessed."

The romantic veil fell quickly—for those willing to see—that university autonomy was the last thing anyone cared about. The fall of Gruevski and the installation of a government ready to sell everything for NATO membership was the true agenda of the scriptwriter. Even democracy or corruption were mere props for those camping out in tents—the ultimate goal was to become "the West" as soon as possible.

Few might recall that the same year, 2014, saw the Euromaidan in Ukraine (with the same geopolitical aim); the echoes of those "heroic events" reverberated in Skopje. In their desperation, the Social Democrats even hinted at an "Arab Spring" scenario (look where those countries that basked in the "sunshine" of Western intervention are now).

Macedonia’s "Colorful Revolution" culminated in the sale of Macedonian identity, traded for a military alliance and geopolitical positioning, leaving us with leaders who make even Gruevski seem like Churchill by comparison.

Just recently, I saw the Serbian historian Dubravka Stojanović featured on the cover of a Serbian magazine with the headline, "Serbia Needs Its Own Zaev." I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. I know, I know who she is and what her ideology is, but to search for a Zaev with a torch? That’s either sheer idiocy or complete ignorance! Better yet, why not just declare: We’ll hand over Vučić along with Kosovo, as long as we can join NATO and the EU.

Due to all of this, the Serbian Spring brings back memories—and doubts—for those of us who are older. Maybe I am wrong, I don’t know, but once bitten by the milk, you blow on the yogurt. The scenes I manage to see awaken a sense of déjà vu, especially the stage design. The red color on the hands and streets, meant to symbolize a bloodthirsty regime and martyrs ready to fight with their lives for the EU and NATO—already seen.

Girls defiantly standing in front of police officers—already seen (ours, by the way, applied lipstick while looking at herself in a policeman’s shield—the photo circled the globe). The idea of not having prominent leaders for the movement, of horizontal connection and plenary decision-making, with a broad agenda in which anyone can recognize themselves and show solidarity—and (mis)use of a tragedy—all of this we have already experienced.

Now, we live with the consequences of that imported (so-called) revolution, in which the poorest and most vulnerable didn’t even participate. Those who were supposedly non-leaders at the time have found their rightful places, some even in parliament or the government. Together, they contributed to the fragmentation of Macedonia, without a second thought about the original goal: university autonomy and improving the quality of higher education.

The manipulation with Martin Neshkovski is so difficult and morbid to even speak about. Although I have been slandered because of the Colorful Revolution, I can say with a clear conscience: I was the first to withdraw (and even faced lynching from my comrades) from the plenary, realizing where the real intention lay. The Colorful Revolutionaries had arguments but they were transparent—therefore, I never stood with them. Not once! That is why, with a clear conscience, sound judgment, and strong arguments, I could publish the scientific paper on the chimera of the Colorful Revolution in a French journal. I deconstructed it for what it really was: an external intervention.

If the echo of our "revolution" came from Kiev, this in Belgrade could have a very strong connection to what is happening in Tbilisi. It’s geopolitics, stupid! Everything is geopolitics, idiot! The only reasonable voice that tried to find a thread in the events in Serbia recently was that of Boris Buden. His latest book has a clear title, "Transition to Nowhere." The point is that the promised transition after the 90s was never meant to lead to true democracy (neoliberal, of course), but to the expansion of Western geopolitical influence for its own interests. In the meantime, the West has experienced economic, political, and moral decline (culminating in 2024 with the genocide in Gaza, and now massacres across Syria), and our so-called transition has only one ending. The answer to where we will "end up" lies in the idiotic question: are you for Trump or for Putin/Xi? That is the only question for which the West shows interest when it comes to the region (former Yugoslavia). And the world has changed. The time when the answer to every problem/question was – the West! – has passed. The West can no longer find answers to its own decline and the crisis eating it from within. That is why the Serbian protests, as Buden observes, do not awaken much interest in the European public, and he cynically concludes that they would attract more sympathy if, instead of Serbian flags, they waved Ukrainian ones and shouted slogans in English. His words require deep reflection, and they contain many painful truths, but that does not mean that the geopolitical war hasn’t long ago placed Serbia on its agenda. Not only because of lithium and other resources (which, in fact, Vučić is prepared to give up), but because Western military centers can no longer afford the existence of a system (regime?) that is not 102.3% pro-Western. Vučić’s position of maneuvering and sitting on two chairs is becoming unstable. And the number of useful idiots still looking for salvation from the West is not decreasing. The politics of the streets and the weak (lost in the Western universe) opposition have no vision for their own society. They (like ours) want someone to sustain them, house them, and treat them like infantile children, but at least they will provide them with some existence. The most naive thing about these protests is the personalization of the culprit, the one who must fall at any cost – but we are the best example of a country that, with the change of one figure, got two or three times worse leaders, and the neo-colonial and vassal system remained the same: based on clientelism, corruption, plunder, absence of a moral compass, calling on all who want to exploit, and the last public good that happened to remain, participating or giving support to all their disgusting wars and pushing toward nuclear Armageddon. And this is called patriotism and a pro-Western perspective (count how many times our president mentioned the EU in her annual speech to Parliament). The irony of the fate of our Colorful Revolution is that it came about due to the name change and NATO entry, and thus into all its military proxy wars, and the only winner is Šekerinska, the one who actively participated in the scenario with the "freedom camp" and the little tents (in which, of course, she didn’t enter). Such tents, and other props, you now see in Tbilisi. One can only wonder if there is a logistics company for renting and transporting equipment for these color revolutions. The Romanian Supreme Court annulled a legitimate election process for the presidential elections – and there is no resistance. In Moldova, they rigged the elections – of course, no resistance. And I won’t even start listing…

So, my dear friends, both young and old, remember 2014 and everything that followed, and you will see why the time for romantic protests here has passed. And it will not return as long as we stand firm on the ramparts of the Western authoritarian and imperial march across the world.