Serbia: The Students Seeking to “Get into the Construction Site”

A year on from the devastating collapse of a train station canopy in Novi Sad, daily demonstrations continue to define life in Serbia, as tens of thousands of protestors marched on 1 November in Novi Sad to commemorate the 16 people who had died. What began as outrage following this tragedy, has become the most serious political challenge that President Aleksandar Vučić has faced during his seven year tenure. At the forefront of these protests have been university students, for whom this tragedy is the last straw in a fight against corruption.

These protests hardly ever make world headlines, as events in Serbia are rarely covered. As such, for this article I spoke to several Serbian students who, in one way or another, have been involved in the protests. From direct involvement, to raising awareness abroad or quietly hoping for change, the voices of these students deserve to be heard, revealing how vital the act of protesting can be, no matter how small.

What motivates the students to protest?

Although the spark for the current protests was the tragic collapse of the newly-built Novi Sad train station canopy and the government’s lack of transparency regarding the construction and funds, speaking with the students revealed a broader, underlying discontent with their country’s current state. For instance, Veljko Aleksić – a second-year student at the Political Science Faculty of Belgrade University – said that whilst he had been “involved in student activism” before, such as following the shooting at a Belgrade school which left nine children dead, the “giant shock” of the canopy collapse was a turning point. He “felt a sense of personal responsibility” for the deaths, as the levels of corruption in the country were well-known. However, whilst he said he was “angry at myself”, he was “furious at them [the government]”. 

The students’ motivation goes beyond just anger. Although Luka (a pseudonym for his safety), a psychology student in Belgrade, put his participation down to “anger”, this feeling of helplessness and pain transformed into hope for change and a desire for a positive outcome to emerge from a negative situation. 

How do the protests function?

An aspect of protests that is often overlooked – at least until they have become history and are studied instead of reported on – is the actual system of organisation. Veljko, Luka and Nadja, a Master’s student in landscape, architecture and horticulture in Belgrade, all spoke to me about their involvement in the actions of their respective faculties. Each faculty within each university in Serbia leads their own response and decides on specific actions to take. Within each faculty, there is a plenum – a space where members can speak and vote – as well as several different working groups. The working groups focus on specific aspects of the protests, from logistics to media, and vary not only between faculties but also between universities. 

Whilst there are inter-faculty working groups at the University of Belgrade, their only role is to enable collective discussion, but they remain powerless to make any decisions without the support of the plenums of all the faculties.

This system is remarkably democratic and, as Veljko said, “very decentralised” to the point that there is often an explicit ban on student leaders. Veljko put this decision down to a general “mistrust” in Serbia, where for years the opposition and activists have been ineffective in bringing change. However, Veljko also explained the decision in terms of personal safety: if the hypothetical leader were to be arrested and questioned, the government would be “very ruthless” and after release, they would likely continue to be harassed by the state security and judiciary. 

However, the system is far from perfect. Veljko repeatedly bemoaned the lack of participation in the plenums and working groups, and was critical of active students dismissing concerns from newcomers who had not participated before. Whilst this problem of participation stems in part from the longevity of the protests, Veljko was nonetheless “surprised” at how well such issues had been kept in check so far. 

What has been the government’s response?

All of the students shared the same view of the government’s response, which Luka summed up as “repressive, unfair, and illegal”. One of the main examples of this claimed illegality was the alleged use of a ‘sonic cannon’ during protests on 15 March. This protest was the largest ever in Serbian history, with up to 325,000 present. 

Whilst the government denied claims that such a device was used, they admitted to the presence of such a device on the streets. 47 Serbian citizens have since taken the government to the European Court of Human Rights, requesting an interim measure. This interim measure was issued on 30 April, and whilst not taking “any position as to whether such weapons” were deployed, the Court urged the Serbian government to “prevent the use of sonic weapons” and reminded them that their usage is “unlawful in Serbia”. A date for the ECtHR’s ruling on whether these weapons were used is yet to be confirmed.

15 March marked a “turning point” in regards to the government’s response, as until that day there had been “only the most discreet” presence of the police at the protests. In Veljko’s opinion, this reflected the “new age authoritarianism” of Vučić, under which “he doesn’t care” about protests as normally they fizzle out eventually. However, as this was no longer the case, the police have become emboldened to take action. Nadja described the police as “extremely brutal” in their actions, whilst another anonymous student suggested they have become “like a private security” for SNS (Vučić’s political party). 

Some of the most harrowing stories of police violence have come from female student protestors. One student from the same faculty as Veljko, Nikolina Sindjelić, claims she was taken from the street into a SNS garage, where the unit commander “brutally beat” her and a friend, before threatening to rape her “there in front of everyone”. 

Although the government has sought to downplay the accusations, with the Minister of Interior Affairs, Ivica Dačić, claiming “untruths are involved”, there have been other similar accounts by protestors. Veljko reported that a female student from the Faculty of Agriculture was beaten with guns by the police. There has yet to be any justice for these victims. Although a supposedly functional judicial system exists, Veljko claims this is an “illusion of normalcy”, as when you come up against someone linked to the government, “they can do whatever they want”.

However, the government has not yet seen the protests’ anti-corruption stance as reason enough to change its ways. Recently, a property development agreement was signed with US President Donald Trump’s son-in-law, Jared Kushner. When NATO bombed Yugoslavia in 1999 during the Kosovo War, around 500 civilians were killed and a wide range of infrastructure was destroyed, from military targets to civilian buildings like hospitals and schools. These ruins remain untouched, serving as a stark reminder of NATO’s actions and fuelling anti-United States sentiment in a country where less than 20% of people hold a positive view of them. One of the buildings bombed was the former headquarters of the Serbian armed forces, which Kushner’s company will now be allowed to redevelop. Selling this to the United States, the very country that led the bombing, is the latest in a long line of examples of corruption from Vučić’s government, and has sparked an extra wave of defiant protests.   

What are the politics of the protestors?

Unlike protests in the UK, which are increasingly defined by political leaning, all the students agree that in Serbia no such ideological unity exists. Veljko referred to the protestors as “ideologically heterogeneous”, as the protests have brought together Serbs of all political persuasions in a fight against corruption, which aims to remove Vučić from power. As Veljko recognises, “first we have to get into the construction site” before there is any hope of rebuilding the country, and that starts with Vučić’s removal. Sofija talked about the ‘nezavisna lista’ (independent list), the students’ plan for an expert-led post-Vučić provisional government, which crucially would have no involvement from people linked to the current regime. Under their leadership, corruption would be tackled and the judiciary rebuilt, whilst social and global issues would be left until after free and fair elections were held.

This political neutrality is particularly important on the matter of membership of the European Union. Serbia applied for membership in 2009, becoming a candidate member in 2012, and starting accession talks a year later. However, as the EU dragged its feet on the process of enlargement, popular support for EU membership collapsed from about 60% in 2009 to 40% in 2024, the lowest of all the Balkan nations. This change was reflected in the opinions of the students. Whilst one student hoped the protests would help Serbia rejoin the “path towards [the] EU”, Nadja was clear that for her faculty, there has never been trust for “the outside to help us”. 

This issue of trust with the EU arose repeatedly with Veljko as well. Although he remarked that the EU was the “only power that … can influence” the situation, he also said the protestors have no expectations for help, as they “have to do this on our own”. Sofija (not her real name), a languages student at Oxford who is originally from Belgrade, holds a similar viewpoint, as she concluded that “the EU will do nothing”. This was especially felt following the visit of Ursula von der Leyen on 15 October, during which she praised Vučić’s foreign policy, but made no public statements regarding the treatment of protestors, a noticeable and disappointing omission. 

The disillusionment with the EU is clear in Serbia. Although ‘EUphoria’ gripped the country in the early 2000s, today there remains considerable anti-EU and anti-NATO sentiment. Veljko claims this is because the EU “sacrificed Serbian democracy for Serbian stability”, by not calling out Vučić’s slide into authoritarianism.  

Another aspect of the protests that has revealed a unity beyond politics has been the involvement of Serbia’s Muslim minority. Muslims make up 4% of Serbia’s population. Concentrated in the Sandžak region of Western Serbia, the Bosniak student populations have been active in the protests as well. Veljko was keen to stress how positive relations between the Muslims and other protestors have been, with scenes of Serbian Army veterans banding together to protect Muslim students. A particularly important event for inter-religious unity came on 29 July, when masked men stormed the University of Novi Pazar (the main city in the Sandžak) to confront the students who had occupied their faculties. In response, solidarity gatherings were organised across the country. Perhaps even more surprising is the appearance of the Bosniak minority flag at protests, a flag which since the fall of Yugoslavia has normally been associated with separatism rather than unity.

Is there hope for change?

Speaking to the students about their hope for the future revealed particularly divergent views. Only days before I spoke to them, Vučić announced that elections would be brought forward, and whilst a student at the Forestry faculty replied with a resounding “YES” to whether these elections brought them hope, others were far less optimistic. Luka believed that they “will not be free and fair” but recognised that this time round the people are ready to prevent electoral fraud. However, Sofija was adamant that the “system is a scam” and whilst Vučić is in charge, there is no hope for elections to be free or fair. Veljko’s response was even more blunt as he compared Vučić to an Orwell character with his contradictions and observed that the decision to bring forward elections means nothing.

However, Veljko expressed some hope when talking about the hunger strike which began outside the National Assembly on 2 November by Dijana Hrka, who lost her son, Stefan, to the Novi Sad canopy collapse. Veljko believed this strike could be “a significant blow” to Vučić, possibly leading to concessions. Dijana continued her hunger strike, despite students at Belgrade’s Faculty of Medicine as well as the Association of Healthcare Workers of Serbia calling on her to end the strike for her own health. Ultimately, Dijana ended her hunger strike on 17 November, without Vučić conceding to her demands, which included the release of arrested students and the prosecution of those responsible for the canopy collapse.

In spite of the failure of Dijana’s hunger strike to bring about political change, Veljko acknowledged that the general belief amongst Serbs is that ultimately Vučić is “going to get away”. No matter how much longer he holds onto power, Veljko believes that when he is finally defeated, he will likely leave the country and join the long list of former authoritarian leaders who have escaped justice.

Despite the difficult situation facing Serbia, Veljko has a message for protestors and students in the West. He warns to never let “a crazy populist” win a second term, because although you can survive the first one, the second is devastating and even deadly.