Anatomy of a Revolt in Serbia

The students turned his dream into a nightmare when they entered this city, inspiring smiles instead of fear. They turned on the light and pointed it outward, doing something extraordinary–something perhaps only a new generation, free from the heavy burdens of the war-torn past, could achieve. As a result, at this late summer moment, we already know that Mr. Vučić’s authoritarian rule in Serbia has been shaken like never before.

The collapse of the canopy at the railway station in Serbia’s second-largest city, Novi Sad, on November 1, 2024, left 16 people dead. This tragedy was followed by an unprecedented wave of student mobilisations across the country. The immediate trigger was suspicions of corrupt deals behind the reconstruction of the railway station, completed only months earlier. However, the deeper roots of discontent lie in thirteen years of President Vučić’s rule and that of his Serbian Progressive Party – a breakaway faction of the far-right Serbian Radical Party, then led by convicted war criminal Vojislav Šešelj.

Since late 2024, events in Serbia have been unfolding at breakneck speed. Day after day, week after week, each new protest action and the government’s reaction to these actions have revealed another layer of corruption at the heart of the government. The most recent acts, from mid-August and early September, of naked force against unarmed protesters have been the final straw in a series of violent actions that define Vučić’s grip on power.

The revolt began with the mobilisation of the student movement. After students from the Faculty of Dramatic Arts (FDU) held a 15-minute silent tribute to honour the victims of the canopy collapse, they were physically attacked by a group of men dressed in black. This assault sparked the first blockade of the FDU, soon followed by blockades at faculties and universities across the country.

Over the following months, the student movement expanded rapidly. Initially, the protesters demanded accountability and justice for the victims. However, as it became clear that their demands would not be met, their focus calls shifted toward elections – especially after the government collapsed under pressure from the protests and was subsequently ‘re-elected’ without an election taking place. Meanwhile, the students managed to blockade every faculty at every university in the country, all while practising direct democratic decision-making and designing highly effective actions. We witnessed hundreds of protest rallies in cities large and small, culminating in Belgrade on March 15, 2025, when estimates suggest that hundreds of thousands of people, possibly up to half a million, gathered.

There were long protest marches, runs, and cycling caravans from town to town, often crossing borders. Most importantly, we saw bridges being built – between people of different religions, ethnicities, generations, and even across ideological and political divides.

One of the most striking examples of this was the involvement of students and residents of Novi Pazar, the largest city in the region where most of Serbia’s Muslim population lives. For the first time since the 1990s, people there felt that Serbia was their country; they experienced solidarity from the rest of society and a sense of equality. Empowerment may be the right word here, not only for Novi Pazar, but also for the many others who joined the resistance – both on the streets and within institutions, especially universities and schools.

Serbia as a politically volatile area

What Serbia has gone through in the past nine months can thus be described as eventful. Not that the previous decades were calm: The country was involved in three wars on the territory of the former Yugoslavia, and was bombed by NATO in 1999. Even after the fall of Milošević – whose era was marked by wars in Kosovo, Croatia, and Bosnia, economic sanctions, the assassination of political rivals and critical journalists, and mass demonstrations including student mobilisations in 1996–1997 – Serbia remained turbulent.

The country’s first democratically elected prime minister, Zoran Đinđić, was assassinated in 2003 by a coalition of mafia networks and remnants of Milošević’s military and security apparatus. This dark coalition of the 1990s, composed of Milošević’s ‘socialists’ and their far-right collaborators, led by the convicted war criminal Vojislav Šešelj, resurfaced in 2012. It was not Šešelj himself who rose to become the most powerful figure in the country, but rather his political protégé, today’s president Aleksandar Vučić. Vučić rose from vice-prime minister under Dačić – formerly Milošević’s party secretary – to prime minister and finally became president in 2017. The consolidation of autocracy has been underway ever since.

Riding the wave of popular resentment against the tycoons and the impoverishment caused by mass privatisations and other neoliberal economic reforms after Milošević’s fall, Vučić presented himself as a champion of the poor. In reality, he manipulated them. Instead of dismantling corruption, he made it an even more integral part of the system. Rather than breaking with tycoons, he struck deals with the old elites while creating new ones, ensuring their loyalty by binding their privileges to his political power. Unlike in the late 1990s, when the tycoons eventually saw Milošević as a burden and turned against him, today’s wealthy elites continue to stake their future on Vučić – not out of admiration, but out of shared business interest and mutual dependency.

Consequently, Serbia is perhaps the only country in Europe and its immediate neighbourhood where the ruling party and its small coalition partners control every single city as well as almost every municipality and village. Under such circumstances, what began as a student movement has expanded into a broader popular resistance. Following the largest student-organised protest on March 15, another mass rally took place on June 28. Subsequently, students called on the so-called zborovi, small civic groups that had been organising at the municipal and neighbourhood level in Belgrade and other cities, to join forces. This is precisely what happened. Zborovi began staging smaller rallies, often simultaneously, across different parts of Belgrade and throughout the country.

Recent developments

This wave of ‘decentralised’ resistance was characterised by innovative and daring street actions. Protesters would block major crossroads, only to be swiftly removed by the police. They would then set up barricades made from trash bins and containers, which were also cleared sooner or later. They soon discovered a more ‘legal’ tactic for blocking traffic: endlessly walking in circles across pedestrian crossings – something no authority could forbid. These almost comical yet highly effective protest methods escalated into more determined and often physical confrontations with the police. Every day brought a new trigger for protest: the arrests of students and civic activists, police raids at universities, which were often marked by brutal force. Crowds began gathering in front of ruling party offices, where they were confronted by government-organised loyalists defending President Vučić. The police never intervened against these increasingly violent loyalist groups, only against the protesters. After countless incidents and crackdowns, the volcano finally erupted in the middle of summer, when few had expected it.

In mid-August, the streets of Belgrade and several other Serbian cities resembled a war zone. Ironically, Serbia now looked, on the surface, as well, like a solid authoritarian state. Until then, the police had been relatively restrained, leaving the dirty work of intimidation and physical assault to civilian criminal groups. Now, however, many were seriously injured by the police, and images of police brutality – such as a dozen officers mercilessly beating a young man lying helplessly on the ground – went viral. The police themselves began to beat people up in the same way as their counterparts across the authoritarian world - although it should be said that the so-called ‘democratic world’ isn’t doing much better these days, as the violent repression against pro-Palestinian rallies across Europe and the U.S has shown.

Vučić’s double game

Since the beginning of the movement, Mr. Vučić has tested various strategies to discredit the protesters. Yet the methods he had long used to neutralise and destroy political opposition in Serbia have failed this time. Accusing them of being foreign agents, enemies of Serbia, terrorists, conductors of a ‘colour revolution’, violent disruptors of peace and stability, Croatian ‘Ustaše’ or followers of Kosovar Prime Minister Kurti all proved equally ineffective. The more he attacked them, particularly the students, the stronger their support grew, as reflected in the polls. The prospect of any ‘student list’ in potential elections poses a significant threat to Vučić’s government. This is why the president – a figure who loves elections, especially the fake ones – refuses to call for new elections. Finally, a force has emerged that is capable of challenging him and his party, despite the persistent threat of electoral fraud and manipulation, which has marred every vote for the past thirteen years.

Most recently, after being criticised by numerous foreign media outlets, from The Guardian to The Financial Times, he decided to play the ‘good cop’: He publicly invited the very students he had just labelled as terrorists, foreign agents and Ustaše for a dialogue. True to their fearless spirit, a sentiment they have spread across generations, including high school pupils, the students refused the dishonest offer. Following hundreds of arrests, beatings, and thousands of citizens being intimidated or mistreated, they rejected his bloody hand1 with mockery.

So, what is next for Mr. Vučić?

Despite these developments, Mr. Vučić continues to enjoy the implicit – and often explicit – support of some of the most powerful countries in Europe and around the world. Even though his support for Russia since the start of the invasion of Ukraine has been far from exemplary, he can still rely on Russian backing. He maintains close relations with others, from the Trump administration in the US to leading EU countries, largely as a result of numerous business deals forged on Serbian soil, frequently to the detriment of its citizens, as I have written elsewhere. In terms of his governing style, he is far from an exception; in fact, at this moment, he is representative of the global mainstream. Comparisons can be drawn with numerous countries, but perhaps the most illustrative case, especially for anticipating his next moves, is Israel.

It is a well-known fact that Vučić had an Israeli consultant by his side. Srulik Einhorn, co-founder of Allenby Concept House, one of Israel’s leading digital branding firms, was a key adviser to Netanyahu’s campaigns from 2009 to 2022. According to Israeli journalist Yossi Melman, Einhorn is the ‘agent of chaos’, known in Israel for spreading disinformation and cultivating a toxic atmosphere that results in a highly polarised society.

So it comes as no surprise that Mr. Vučić copies Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu. For example, the great March 15 protest was violently interrupted when authorities allegedly deployed a sonic cannon against peaceful protesters. Initially, the government denied both the use of such a weapon and its possession. However, investigative reporting later confirmed that the state did, in fact, possess sonic weapons and had previously used them against migrants at the northern border with Hungary. Despite this confirmation, the government continues to deny using the weapon on March 15.  For a while, I wondered where the idea for the sonic weapon came from. Despite widespread police brutality across the European Union and beyond, I had never heard of such a practice before. Then I remembered that sonic bombs are an everyday reality for Palestinians.

In Serbia, it is widely accepted that ties with the Israeli government have not only been maintained but have grown closer over the past year or two. Since the beginning of the full-scale genocide against Palestinians, Serbian arms exports to Israel have increased by an astonishing 1,778 per cent over a 21-month period compared to the same length of time before October 7, reaching approximately €100.8 million. The Speaker of the Serbian Parliament and former Prime Minister, Ana Brnabić, paid an official visit to Israel in July of this year, partly due to this surge in arms exports. Meanwhile, Mr. Vučić –much like Mr. Netanyahu– often seeks to deflect attention from domestic unrest and protests by creating tensions abroad.

Therefore, it is no coincidence that President Trump recently claimed, while listing conflicts he had supposedly prevented, that he had stopped Serbia from launching a war with Kosovo. The attempt had already been foreshadowed in the well-known Banjska incident of 2023, when a group of armed Serbian paramilitaries clashed in a firefight with Kosovo forces on Kosovo’s territory. If the situation in Serbia continues to escalate, there is a strong chance that Kosovo's Pandora’s box will reopen.

And what is next for the resistance?

The Serbian resistance movement, an alliance of the student movement and broader popular mobilisation against authoritarian rule, is highly heterogeneous. It brings together left, right, and liberal elements. The decision-making process is rooted in leftist practices, and many students, as well as citizens in general, are liberal or left-leaning. Nevertheless, a good number of people identify with right-wing ideas, and some recent rallies have featured more overt right-wing symbolism. Beneath the surface, a silent struggle within the movement is waiting to unfold once authoritarian rule is lifted. For many on the left, this latent tension is disheartening.

In my view, contemporary global affairs are highly reactionary. Broadly speaking, there are two types of development. Either they are purely proto-fascist, or they are contingent, in which case a struggle is taking place between reactionary forces and progressive (left) alternatives. Serbia belongs to the second category, which, given global trends, is the more encouraging scenario. Serbian society has also been remarkably dynamic in recent months, constantly shifting tactics. One of the most recent examples is the boycott campaign targeting state-funded art festivals, including music, theatre and film. The next step could involve a boycott and disruption of economic activities tied to government-aligned businesses. From the mega-project EXPO 2027 to seemingly ‘smaller’ enterprises, such actions could strike at the heart of Serbia’s corrupt ruling elite. This strategy could signify a possible shift from an anti-corruption and anti-authoritarian struggle to a broader movement that challenges the existence of capital itself. Just as Francesca Albanese’s recent report highlights the ‘economy of genocide’ and the complicity of big business in Israel’s full-scale genocide in Gaza, one might speak of an ‘economy of autocracy’ here, and of the task of dismantling the network of political and economic interests that sustains Vučić’s rule in Serbia.

Authoritarian conditions often demand contingent forms of resistance. Through innovative and humorous tactics and with determination to overthrow the far-right government, there is still room for hope, despite the regime escalating its brutality with each new protest. If Serbian students could enter the Croatian city of Virovitica as heroes, then almost anything seems possible. Another playful slogan from this summer captured the spirit well, mocking the Serbian nationalist graffiti that declares‘When the army returns to Kosovo.’ ‘When the people return from holidays,’ the new graffiti that popped up across Serbia reads. The message is clear: the autumn ahead will undoubtedly be hotter than the summer – and this has nothing to do with climate change.

1 One of the symbols of Serbia’s uprising is a bloody hand, accompanied by the slogan ‘Your hands are bloody,’ referring to the criminal responsibility for the canopy collapse in Novi Sad.