Serbia on the move. Reflections on the student protests

The four students I met at one of Belgrade’s faculties are also unconvinced by the accusation of the master craftsmen for the disaster in Novi Sad. They are certain that the construction was carried out sloppily because the funds earmarked for it ended up in the pockets of corrupt politicians and their “pals” in the economy. Their movement, which has been keeping Serbia on tenterhooks since November with huge rallies and marches throughout the country, appears to reflect the external conditions under which it emerged. The public dominance of Serbian President Vučić, who according to the constitution is supposed to hold a purely representative office, and his SNS, is now so great that the movement must adapt in order to grow at all. The president has an overwhelming media presence, daily lashing out at his opponents with verbal tirades, repeatedly reminding Serbs of the “threat” posed by all kinds of enemies: from domestic dissidents to neighboring Balkan nations and the authorities in the European Union. All these forces supposedly join forces to carry out a “color revolution”, i.e. an NGO-controlled and foreign-financed coup, against his government. The police and informers are well equipped, and anyone who stands out during demonstrations with speeches must expect a visit from the police and arrest.

External factors have also shaped the movement – first and foremost, the stagnation of Western-led transformations. This crisis has been looming for a long time, but with Trump’s second presidency in the US, the EU is indeed facing a shambles. In Serbia, the pro-Western restructuring of politics, the economy, and society has been more controversial than elsewhere since the late 1980s. A sense of defiance (Serbian: prkos) has since been a recurring theme in Serbian contemporary history, fed by Western politics and how it is perceived in the country. This includes including the West’s positioning against Serbia and its war aims in Croatia and Bosnia, the NATO bombing in 1999, the still unresolved Kosovo issue and the external pressure on Serbia to position itself clearly alongside the West in the geopolitical realignment of the world. The planned lithium mining (an important issue for the protesters, by the way) fits into this history of conflict – it is presented in Germany as ecologically positive because it contributes to climate protection, but from a Serbian perspective it appears as local environmental destruction and as an ominous cooperation between foreign hegemonic powers and the unpopular regime, which is repeatedly affirmed by the open support from Berlin.

Their ideological restraint not only sets them apart from the younger generation in Germany, which is now just as polarized politically between the right and center-left as the rest of society and therefore consumes its energies in trench warfare. The Serbian students are able to form broad alliances that extend far into society as a result of their restraint. This applies not only to the urban society of Belgrade, but also to the relationship with the provinces. This relationship is usually poor in systems of authoritarian modernization, of which the region has seen many, burdened by centralism and by the arrogance (often perceived in the provinces) of the “backward” rural population. During their protest marches, the students from Belgrade not only meet with their fellow students from smaller Serbian cities such as Niš or Kragujevac, but they also pass through villages where they are often greeted joyfully by the population.

The contrast is great, not only to the situation in Germany, but also to the Serbian predecessor movement Otpor (= resistance) of the late 1990s and early 2000s, which contributed significantly to the overthrow of Milošević. The Otporaši received generous support from the West, founded professionalized NGOs, and thus ended up in the maelstrom of an externally guided transformation. When Milošević fell on October 5, 2000, the Otporaši were hired in other countries, such as Georgia and Ukraine, as specialists in the fight against unpopular rulers who were considered corrupt and who were sought to be driven out primarily by appealing to the educated youth of the capital cities. Despite some parallels, the current movement pursues a different, more autochthonous approach that has a broader impact on society. This is also evident in the symbolism. Otpor used the closed fist as its emblem, while today’s movement uses the open palm raised in greeting – to those undecided, this may seem significantly more inviting.

In any case, the students tell me enthusiastically about their marches through the country and their encounters with “ordinary people”, who often look at the movement with great sympathy, regardless of whether they consider themselves to be Serbs or belong to minorities. Compared to earlier student movements, in Serbia as well as here, this is definitely a step forward. While left-leaning student movements were usually proud of their differences from the rest of society in terms of consciousness, ideology, and lifestyle, and therefore had a hard time reaching out beyond their own milieu, things are quite different here. The behavior of these students supports broad alliances, not only through ideological restraint, but also through something that the West German 1968ers, for example, scorned as supposedly fascist-promoting secondary virtues: order and cleanliness. After meetings, they clean up after themselves so that others don’t have to do this “dirty work” for them. Compared to demonstrations and public gatherings in Berlin, it couldn’t be bigger – just think of the defunct Love Parade, which saw itself not only as a fun event but also as a peace demonstration – it was ultimately driven out of the city, not least because the litter was a constant point of contention between the organizers and politicians. There was a lot of talk about “waste avoidance concepts” – apparently as a substitute for the conscience and education of millions of badly educated participants, for whom the most obvious thing did not occur to them – to feel responsible for their own garbage. Instead, they assumed that other, “simple” people would do this job for them… So, there are a few lessons to be learned from crisis-ridden Southeastern Europe, in this case from Serbia – including some positive examples.