In Focus
The Transformation of Josip Broz Tito’s Image in Ukrainian Soviet, Émigré, and Nazi Occupation Press
Author: Daryna Lynnyk This article is an attempt to present the image of Josip Broz Tito not in a one-dimensional interpretation, but in a broader context - in addition to Soviet sources, the materials of periodicals published under German occupation, as well as in emigration publications in Germany and Austria, are also analysed here. At the same time, due to limited access to the contemporary Ukrainian press, which is independent of ideological pressure, most of the research sources belong to the opposing propaganda poles of the Soviet and Nazi regimes. The image of Tito in these materials often serves as an ideological marker, which is used to construct ideas about ‘friends’ and ‘foes’ in the context of international politics and domestic legitimation of regimes. Picture taken from the website https://gradskiportal018.rs The figure of Josip Broz Tito vividly illustrates how the media can artificially construct public opinion under the pressure of ideological directives of totalitarian regimes, flexibly adapting narratives to changes in the political situation. The 71 sources analysed from Ukrainian periodicals allow us to trace a clear change in the rhetoric about the Yugoslav leader depending on the time, type of media and their political control. Given the specifics of political changes and the transformation of propaganda strategies, media coverage of Josip Broz Tito in the Ukrainian press is conditionally divided into four key periods: 1. 1943-1945 – Nazi German-controlled media and Tito’s “gangs” 2. 1945-1947 – Postwar glorification in the Soviet press. 3. 1948-1952 – Ideological rift between Stalin and Tito. 4. 1956-1973 – Rehabilitation of the image and return to moderate approval. This periodisation demonstrates the direct dependence of rhetorical changes in the media on the foreign policy and ideological course of the regimes that controlled the contemporary press in Ukraine. Nazi German-controlled media and Tito’s “gangs” The period of 1943-1945 is represented by 21 publications, exclusively in the media that operated under the supervision of the Nazi authorities. The largest number of references falls on 1944, the period of active hostilities between the Red Army, Bulgarian troops and the Yugoslav People's Liberation Army led by Tito and the German coalition. In these publications, the image of Tito is presented exclusively in a negative light: he is called a ‘Bolshevik bandit leader’, and the official title of Marshal of the Federal People's Republic of Yugoslavia is either put in quotation marks or accompanied by the designation ‘so-called’, which was intended to delegitimise his political status and separate him from representing the interests of the Balkan peoples1. One of the leading strategies of German propaganda was to portray Tito as a direct leader of Soviet policy, an “Agent” prepared and inspired by Moscow. However, at the same time, they do not consider him to be their puppet, which indirectly indicates his autonomy. The publication ‘Bolshevik Work in the Balkans: Who is the Communist “Marshal” Tito?’ (‘Volya Pokuttya’) notes that his units were ‘organised on the Bolshevik model’ and that he ‘received special training in Moscow’. Interestingly, they were not lying there – Tito’s army structure was heavily inspired by the Soviet, to the extent that Stalin even feared that this could damage his relations with the Western allies2. Stalin, according to the same publication, viewed Tito as “the front line of Bolshevism in Europe”3. This indicates Tito's ideological dependence on the USSR, his subordination to the Soviet secret services, and his desire to imitate the Soviet model. This characterisation shaped the image of Tito as an immediate threat, an ideological enemy, while singling him out, rather than the Balkan peoples, as the main object of confrontation. German publications systematically shaped the idea of the power of the Wehrmacht, which inflicted devastating blows on Tito's “communist gangs”4. At the same time, the Nazi press clearly demonstrated a tendency to devalue Soviet forces: communist units were labelled as "gangs" and their activities were presented as chaotic and illegitimate. In contrast, the American and British military are seen as equal adversaries, which underscores the Nazi propaganda's attempts not only to humiliate the communists but also to question the legitimacy of Western support for the Yugoslav resistance movement. Another element of the propaganda was the emphasis on the internal discord among Tito's “bandits”, the mass defections of Serbs and Italians to the German army, which was presented as supposed proof of the moral superiority of the Third Reich5. This representation was intended not only to delegitimise Tito, but also to contrast the "chaos" of the communist movement with the "order" of German control, reinforcing the message of Germans as civilizational liberators. To reinforce the dehumanisation of the Bolshevik forces, statistics were provided on the numerous crimes committed by the "communist robber gang" led by “comrade” Tito against the civilian population - rape, looting of churches, destruction of houses, murder of children, women and the elderly - which he had committed in the ‘Moscow style’ after receiving training there. Such claims were supported by geopolitical pretexts: according to the authors, these brutal methods were part of a broader Soviet strategy to reach the shores of the Adriatic Sea, implemented by Stalin's "agent" Tito6. “Tito as a conspiracy against the Serbs” A separate propaganda narrative was formed around Tito's ethnicity, a Croat who was portrayed as a fierce opponent of the Serbs. In this discourse, the Serbian people were portrayed as victims of a conspiracy of international forces: it was claimed that “Churchill and Eden betrayed the former Yugoslavia, its government and king”, and the Serbs were credited with a “historic mission” – the destruction of Bolshevism. The Tito government, according to the rhetoric of the publications, was portrayed as a "tool of the red Kremlin" and a "bandit provocation" to which there could be only one response - "the concentration of all Serbian national elements under the banner of Nedić"7. In this context, British policy was condemned as cynical and treacherous: England had first forced Serbs to "shed blood for her benefit", and when General Mihajlović, the leader of the Chetniks, the monarchist partisan resistance movement in Yugoslavia, became unnecessary to her, he was "thrown away like a squeezed citrine" in favour of a new favourite, Tito, a leader "alien to the Serbs"8. This is confirmed by a quote from Captain Jovovic used in another article: "We want to fight against our gravediggers, together with the brave German armed forces, which are not replaced by any territorial aspirations in our country"9. In this way, Tito and his allies are presented as an existential threat to the Serbian nation, which is instead heroised and given a historical role. As an alternative to Tito's "treacherous" course, the support of the pro-regime Serbian leader Milan Nedić, the head of Serbia's puppet government during the Nazi occupation, is offered. Overall, it can be argued that the Ukrainian media, controlled by the Nazi authorities, systematically denied the legitimacy of Josip Broz Tito as the head of the newly created Yugoslav state. The publications formed a stable image of Tito as a follower of Bolshevik ideology and an instrument of Soviet expansion (or at least its “agent”). Much attention was paid to attempts to oppose him to the Serbian people, presenting the latter as a victim of a conspiracy between the Communists and the Western allies. Instead, the figure of Milan Nedić, the head of the pro-regime government, was glorified as the only nationally acceptable alternative. Postwar glorification in the Soviet press. After the victory of the anti-Hitler coalition forces and the consolidation of Soviet influence in Eastern Europe, the media space on the territory of Ukraine came under the control of the USSR. The analysed corpus of materials for this period revealed only 10 publications, nine of which belong to the Soviet "Literary Gazette" [Літературна газета] and one to the émigré publication "Our Life" [Наше життя], published in West Germany. The rhetoric of heroising Tito and demonstrating him as an equal ally of Stalin became characteristic of the Soviet discourse. Thus, in an article written by the Soviet actor, People's Artist of the USSR Yuri Shumsky, the author shares his impressions of a trip to the Balkans, where, according to him, he had long wanted to go. He describes a Victory Day celebration in Yugoslavia, where the atmosphere was permeated with slogans: "Long live Marshal Stalin!", "Long live Marshal Tito!", "Stalin - Tito!", "Moscow - Belgrade!". This emotional palette is aimed at reinforcing the image of both leaders as equal heroes of the liberation struggle, united by a political union. Further, the text gives preference to the depiction of the Yugoslav partisans as heroic fighters against the Nazi occupiers. Describing the monuments, Shumsky emphasises that “from this impregnable fortress, the heroic Yugoslav partisans drove out their enemies — the German invaders.” Thus, the landscapes of Yugoslavia are intertwined with a pathos story of a common victory10. The style of this publication is journalistic – a personal, emotionally coloured story written by a popular actor inspires trust within the reader. Vivid epithets, emotional impressions, and images of festive Yugoslavia are intertwined with political slogans that gently but persistently impose the official Soviet political course through the image of culture, brotherhood, and victory. In another publication published in the “Literary Gazette”, Bulgarian literary critic Lyudmil Stoyanov provides an overview of modern Bulgarian literature, closely linking its development to the collapse of “fascism” in the region. He notes: “In the first days after the overthrow of fascism, poets came up with many poems that glorified the exploits of the Red Army, the wisdom of Stalin, the struggle of the Bulgarian partisans and the people’s army, the heroism of Marshal Tito’s troops, and the brotherhood of Slavic peoples.” Such a hierarchically constructed list of images—from the Red Army to Tito—points to the central motifs of officially approved post-war poetry. The author not only notes their presence but also approves of them, effectively legitimising the cultural orientation toward the Soviet narrative. Thus, Marshal Tito organically fits into the system of ideological symbols, as part of the liberation struggle and Slavic unity, and the article itself performs the function of cultural confirmation of this new political reality11. Ally of Lenin and Stalin The close connection between the Soviet leadership and the Yugoslav political elite is also evidenced by the article dedicated to the funeral of Mikhail Kalinin – one of the leading figures of the October Revolution and the Soviet Union. From the very first lines, Kalinin appears as a "faithful ally of Lenin and Stalin", which partially levels his own personality as a prominent politician, and instead strengthens the cult of the main Soviet leaders. At the same time, the culminating moment of the article is the description of the appearance of “Marshal Josip Broz Tito, accompanied by members of the Yugoslav government delegation,” who lays a wreath “from the fraternal Yugoslav people, in whose hearts gratitude will forever live to one of the leaders of the Soviet state for his assistance in liberating Yugoslavia from the yoke of the fascist invaders.” Such a gesture symbolises not only official political loyalty, but also demonstrates Yugoslavia’s ideological dependence on the USSR in the post-war period. Formal expressions of gratitude consolidate a hierarchical model of relations, where the USSR appears as a liberator and mentor, and Yugoslavia as a dependent follower12. The analysis of the materials also indicates the active development of cultural ties between the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia in the post-war period. The publications cover congresses, official meetings, and literary evenings during which creative works with a clear ideological undertone were exchanged. In particular, the report on the meeting with Yugoslav writers in Kyiv emphasizes the common historical struggles of the two peoples and the role of literature as a means of ideological consolidation: “The revolutionary democratic literature of Yugoslavia, like the literature of the Soviet Union, was closely connected with the struggle of its people against a fierce enemy.” At the meeting, Pavlo Tychyna read a translation of an excerpt from “Songs about the Life of Comrade Tito,” emphasising the unity of the experience of both countries: “We fought together and won together. And nothing can break our friendship, which was born in the fight against a mortal enemy.” The material pays special attention to the role of Ukrainian intellectuals, who, through translations and literary initiatives, contributed to the establishment of cultural dialogue. At the same time, the emphasis is placed on the heroization of the common past, emphasizing the “great role of the Russian people in the development of the culture of other Slavic peoples” and on the figure of Tito as a leading leader, thanks to whom, according to the narrative, these ties became possible13. A striking example of the ideological content of cultural interaction between the USSR and Yugoslavia is the publication of Maksym Rylsky’s translation of the poem by the Yugoslav poet Vladimir Nazor “Friend Tito”. In the poetic text, Tito appears as a multifaceted image — a symbol of national revival, a leader who unites disparate forces, cares for the people and embodies the features of an ideal leader. Thus, the metaphor of revival — “fire under the ashes” — indicates renewal after the destruction of the war, and the image of a river with many streams symbolises the unity of the peoples under his leadership. Tito is depicted as someone who provides prosperity—“sows flour,” “kneades new bread”—and at the same time has authority and power—“stern as a lion,” but with a “father’s heart.” The poem also emphasizes trust in the leader even in an uncertain future: Tito is depicted as a “gift of great fate” for the people14. Another example is Rodovan Zogovich’s poem “Song about the Life of Comrade Tito,” published on the front page and translated by Pavlo Tychyna. It uses the rhetoric of total identification of the leader with the people: “Tito is all of us… And he is a multitude of us.” Such poetics of merging the individual with the collective is characteristic of totalitarian discourses, where the leader personifies the masses. The lines "He was born into the world from the first branch of the CP" directly and inextricably link Tito to the Communist Party of Yugoslavia15. Both works not only testify to the formation of a cult of Tito’s personality in the Yugoslav cultural space, but also demonstrate his full approval by the official Soviet line. Their appearance in the Soviet press, in particular in translations of recognised Ukrainian poets such as Rylsky and Tychyna, testifies to the institutional legitimisation of the positive image of Tito as an “allied and fraternal leader”. Criticism of Tito’s regime The only mention of Josip Broz Tito found in the émigré press, namely in the newspaper “Nashe Zhyttia”, published in Augsburg (West Germany), is a publication in which Tito is called “marshal” without quotation marks. This form of mention indicates a certain recognition of his official status as the leader of Yugoslavia. At the same time, the general tone of the material is critical. The author of the text draws attention to Tito's silence in public speeches about the role of the international humanitarian organisation United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA) in the post-war reconstruction of the country, in particular, noting that without its help, "half of the people in Yugoslavia would have had to die of hunger". In addition, an ironic attitude is expressed towards the implementation of the Soviet model of the five-year plan ("five-year plan") in Yugoslavia, which is depicted as an ineffective instrument for "making the people happy" according to the model of Moscow's centralised policy16. Thus,the publication combines formal recognition of Tito's political status with criticism of his regime, in particular for concealing information about foreign aid and adopting Soviet models of governance. As a result, in the Soviet public discourse of 1945–1947, Josip Broz Tito appears as a heroic ally, equal to Stalin in the fight against "fascism". His activities are systematically portrayed as the embodiment of brotherhood, revolutionary devotion and care for the people, which ideologically brings Yugoslavia closer to the USSR. Through artistic images, journalistic materials and translations of Yugoslav poets, a cult of Tito's personality is gradually formed in the Soviet media, approved and supported by the official line. Thus, Yugoslavia is presented not only as a political, but also as a cultural and ideological ally, and its leader is an exemplary leader, legitimised by the Soviet state and sphere. Ideological rift between Stalin and Tito While reading Soviet publications from 1945 to 1947, it would be hard to imagine that by June 1948, the Cominform would officiallycondemn Yugoslavia for “ideological deviations,” and a sharp political conflict would erupt between Josip Broz Tito and Joseph Stalin. This sudden change in relations, which ended in an effective break, can be explained by Tito’s desire to pursue a more independent domestic and foreign policy, particularly through active participation in the Greek Civil War, the initiative to create a federation with Bulgaria, and increased influence over Albania. These actions contradicted the strategic interests of the USSR and undermined Moscow’s monopoly on setting the political course in the socialist bloc17. Among 35 analysed publications from 1945 to 1952, about 70% were printed in the émigré newspaper “Promin” (Salzburg, Austria), while the remaining 30% appeared in the “Literary Gazette”. Notably, in 1948–1949, the period immediately after the split, the “Literary Gazette” only featured one article mentioning Tito. In contrast, between 1950 and 1952, the number of such mentions increased, suggesting a shift in the Soviet media’s approach to covering the topic, although the exact reasons remain open to interpretation. In early June 1948, the “Promin” briefly reported on political purges conducted by Tito, comparing them to Stalinist purges18. This was based on the dismissal and arrest of top Yugoslav ministers, close to Tito and comrades, during the partisan war19. This suggests that Tito employed the Soviet model of political cleansing, but did so to break away from USSR influence and establish sovereign control over his state. Comparing Yugoslavia and Ukraine In the context of the political split between Stalin and Tito, one article drew a comparison between the situation in Yugoslavia and that in Ukraine, stating: “The accusations made by Moscow against Tito are the same as those once made against Ukrainian communists.” This points to shared repressive mechanisms used by Moscow against independent-minded communist leaders. Despite a certain sympathy for these “victims,” the author remains critical of Tito and his Ukrainian counterparts, calling them “lackeys” who failed to please their Moscow patrons: “Thus Tito stands as a bankrupt before his people… and a bankrupt before his master.” Still, the author supports Tito’s opposition to broader Russian imperialism, stating: “Moscow, as the centre of imperialism and as the embodiment of brutality and cynicism, must be destroyed.” However, this support does not translate into respect for Tito himself, who, according to the author, remained a follower of Stalin and never fully broke from Soviet influence20. Another article takes a more sympathetic tone toward Tito, drawing historical parallels between his resistance to Soviet pressure and the efforts of Ukrainian revolutionaries in the 1920s—such as Mykola Skrypnyk, Mykola Khvylovy, and Oleksandr Shumsky—to establish autonomous Ukrainian policies within the USSR. This comparison emphasises the continuity of the struggle for national liberation and highlights the stronger position Tito enjoys. Unlike the Ukrainian national communists, whose influence was limited to intellectuals and students, Tito, the article notes, had much broader support: “Tito enjoys far more advantageous and solid positions compared to Skrypnyk and Khvylovy… He has not only the whole nation behind him but also a fully armed army—even his own NKVD.” The author thus places hope in Tito as a potential symbol of resistance to imperial pressure, where Ukrainian predecessors failed21. Assumptions about the world war The “Promin” also underscores the significance of the Moscow-Yugoslavia conflict, calling it “the first serious defeat of Moscow in the Balkans” and “the first major crack in Moscow’s offensive front in Europe.” The article highlights that Tito violated the only concrete “principle” — obedience to Moscow — thereby openly defying Kremlin control. In this context, “the foundation of Moscow’s power… is terror,” but “Tito has proven that… Moscow’s terror can be resisted.” Therefore, Tito not only defied the Kremlin’s line but challenged the effectiveness of Stalinist terror as the primary tool of control. The article concludes with a broader implication: “The defeat of Moscow’s expansionism in the Balkans… will reduce the power of terror along the entire front.” The author sees the Yugoslav conflict as the beginning of the weakening of Stalin’s dominance model in other occupied countries22. In another article featuring commentary by Randolph Churchill, Winston Churchill’s only son, the conflict between Tito and Stalin is seen as a potential precursor to a large-scale armed confrontation, possibly even a world war. The author presents a grim scenario: should the USSR invade Yugoslavia, Western nations—due to alliance obligations—would have to intervene on Tito’s side, potentially sparking a third world war. A comparison of the Kremlin’s tactics to those of Nazi Germany intensifies the threat: “Moscow will follow Hitler’s pre-war strategy.” The article emphasises how swiftly Stalin could overtake Yugoslavia, stating that the Kremlin “needs an easy and cheap victory.” These statements aim to instil a sense of impending catastrophe, fueled by the belief that “Stalin and his criminal gang” could replicate the horrors of World War II. The use of historical analogies, appeals to authority (Churchill), and the framing of a civilized West against an aggressive East helps shape the article’s political message: the conflict with Tito is not local, but a sign of a wider imperialist threat from the USSR23. A review of a Daily Mail article titled Discord in the Moscow Family shows how the Western press used irony and strategic quotations from communist sources to dismantle the image of a united Soviet front — a tactic that the Ukrainian émigré community leveraged to reinforce its anti-Soviet narrative. The article opens with a telling statement: “The Soviet Union now has trouble not only on the external front but also internally,” portraying the USSR as a crumbling hegemon. Criticism is particularly sharp in examples from allied states: Finnish communists fall out of favour after electoral losses; Polish leader Bolesław Bierut is depicted as a puppet of Moscow’s agents; and Hungarian police are depicted as a terror instrument against “enemies of the people.” In this context, though Tito is not mentioned directly, he serves as a shadow hero of the discourse. The paper implies that Yugoslavia’s independence became a chilling precedent for the Kremlin: “Intended… for those party cadres tempted by Tito’s heresy.” This reflects the Soviet perception of any alternative political line as an existential threat. Thus, Tito becomes a symbol of political courage and independence — a challenge to the centre — used as a “negative example” to discipline other socialist bloc countries24. Further interpretations of the Belgrade-Moscow split Further confirmation comes in another article analysing Soviet-Chinese relations, where the author poses a striking question: could Mao be “another Tito”? This short yet conceptually significant question shows that by 1949, Tito had become a symbol of the “independent communist”— a leader able to challenge Moscow not from the West, but from within the communist camp. Thus, Tito and Yugoslavia acquired new global meaning as markers of political autonomy inside the “socialist bloc”. In Soviet literary journalism of the USSR-Yugoslavia conflict period, the image of Josip Broz Tito was consistently demonised using extremely aggressive language. In the cited texts, he is depicted as an “executioner” and leader of a “fascist agency” working for the “Anglo-American imperialists.” This rhetoric presents Tito as a traitor to socialism and a servant of Western capitalism, aligned with the “imperialist” anti-Soviet front. This narrative became particularly prominent in 1949, when Albania, under Enver Hoxha, aligned closely with the USSR as its main strategic ally. After the 1948 split between Moscow and Belgrade, Tito was perceived by the Albanian leadership as the embodiment of “betrayal” within the socialist camp. Yugoslavia, which previously had significant influence over Albania, particularly through military and economic aid, came to be seen as the main threat to Albania’s independence and ideological purity. That same year, Albania launched major political purges, including the arrest and execution of Koçi Xoxe, a former deputy premier accused of links to Yugoslavia. His name appears in quotes as a symbol of a conspiracy organised by Tito to destabilise the country. The article’s conclusion about the failure of the “black schemes” of Yugoslav agents serves not only an ideological purpose but also helps consolidate the internal political legitimacy of Hoxha’s regime25. Despite its economic weakness, Albania sought to present itself as an independent and Kremlin-loyal state in a newly divided communist world. Thus, the analysed text demonstrates how publicist writing of the era became a tool for ideological mobilisation, anti-Yugoslav propaganda, and an affirmation of loyalty to the “correct” Soviet line. In another article, while glorifying the Stalinist army, Tito is described as a “mercenary of American intelligence,” a direct accusation of betrayal and collaboration with the Soviet bloc’s enemies. This branding likens him to spies and hostile agents, emphasising distrust and hostility. Tito’s actions are portrayed as a string of failures—“suffering failure after failure”—creating the image of a weak and unsuccessful opponent, unable to stop the socialist movement. The harsh label “cutthroats” used for Tito’s supporters emphasises their violent and negative portrayal in Soviet propaganda. The overall tone is purely propagandistic, casting Tito as an enemy of peace and progress, a “traitor” and “mercenary” of Western imperialists. Meanwhile, the Soviet Army is depicted as a force of peace, justice, and protector of the working class’s interests, positioning itself as the moral and political counterpoint to the enemy figure of Tito26. Tito as agent to the West In an important article by Ivan Statyvko titled “Tito’s Clique — The Arch-Enemy of Humanity”, Tito’s achievements in fighting the Nazis, which were once described by the Soviet media as “heroic” are either ignored or outright denied. The author accuses him of collaborating with Anglo-American forces, which Soviet propaganda claimed sought to occupy the Balkans, and asserts that Tito actively assisted in that plan. Particular emphasis is placed on his hostility toward the Red Army, which had “liberated” Yugoslavia, used as evidence of his disloyalty to the Soviet bloc: “…Even during the war, Tito appealed to the American-English cannibals for help in fighting the national liberation movement.” Tito is thus portrayed as a vassal and agent of the West—a classic propaganda tactic used to justify Soviet confrontation with Yugoslavia. The use of the term “Tito’s gangs,” which was widely used by Nazi-controlled media during WWII, adds further negative and demoralising connotations and deliberately associates Tito with terrorist and criminal elements27. This reinforces Tito’s image as an enemy of the people and ideological adversary of the socialist ideal, which, according to Soviet propaganda, was best realised by the USSR. Thus, in the media of the Ukrainian émigré community in Austria, the image of Tito was initially received—albeit with some scepticism—with hope that he could emerge as an independent, ideologically consistent "only orthodox Marxist"28, capable of standing up to "Russian imperialism" in a broad sense. This image resonated with the legacy of Ukrainian revolutionaries and fighters who had unsuccessfully attempted to challenge Moscow’s dominance. Even in materials where Yugoslavia was not the direct subject of analysis, Tito appeared as a symbol of defiance against Stalinist orthodoxy and a possible form of independence that continued to threaten the “Soviet family” beyond the Balkans. This gave rise to analogies like the “Polish Tito”29 or the “Asian Tito”30, representing deviations from the Soviet political line and dependency. In response, Soviet newspapers aggressively and persistently labelled Tito with emotionally charged accusations of "betrayal," revising and discrediting the heroic narrative of their joint struggle against fascism. His image was transformed into that of a capitalist “imperialist” agent, a view reinforced by comments from Soviet military and party officials, which lent credibility and amplified the propagandistic narrative. 1956–1973 – Rehabilitation of the Image and Return to Moderate Approval. From 1952 to 1956, based on available sources, there is an almost complete absence of mentions of Tito in the Soviet Literary Gazette. This can be explained by several major political transformations in the USSR that began after Stalin died in 1953. Nikita Khrushchev’s rise to power marked a significant policy shift, including the launch of the de-Stalinization process in 1956, which was accompanied by the "Thaw" and the rehabilitation of Stalin’s victims. As noted by scholar Svetozar Rajak31, for Khrushchev, normalising relations with Yugoslavia was a vital component of successfully implementing de-Stalinization, since without reestablishing dialogue with Tito, the process could not be considered complete or coherent. With the start of the "Thaw," mentions of Tito were scarce and mostly limited to events such as his official visit to Moscow or friendly football matches with Yugoslav teams. At the same time, there were no public statements recognising past slander or acknowledging the mistakes of the Stalinist-era campaign against Tito. Instead, articles began to appear that gradually restored a positive image of Tito as an "outstanding leader of the Yugoslav people", "one of the leading figures in the international workers’ movement", and an honoured guest — especially since his 1956 visit to Moscow marked the beginning of reconciliation between the two socialist countries32. An example of a notable shift toward positive rhetoric about Tito in the Soviet press is a 1962 publication in the Literary Gazette. The article describes Tito’s official visit to Kyiv, emphasising his status as a "respected and welcome guest." The joint presence of Tito and Chairman of the Soviet Council of Ministers Nikita Khrushchev highlighted the parity of the two leaders and the high diplomatic level of relations between their countries. Of particular symbolic importance is the joint tribute paid to the memory of those fallen in World War II — specifically, Tito’s laying of a wreath at the obelisk on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Kyiv’s Park of Eternal Glory. This gesture illustratesthe Soviet side’s acceptance of a shared narrative of the struggle against fascism, contrasting sharply with the propaganda of the Stalin-Tito conflict period, when Soviet media tried to erase Yugoslavia from the collective "heroic" past33. Positive image of Tito, again In the 1970s, the image of Josip Broz Tito in the Soviet “Sportyvna Hazeta” was shaped exclusively in a positive, ceremonial, and diplomatically emphasised light. In issues from 1972 and 1973, he is portrayed as a high-ranking allied leader—President of the SFRY and head of the League of Communists of Yugoslavia—whose visits to Moscow or Kyiv were accompanied by official ceremonies, meetings with top Soviet officials such as Brezhnev, Kosygin, Podgorny, and Shcherbytsky, and mass support from the working people. Public displays of welcome, such as applause at airports, flag-decorated streets, national anthems, and the presentation of bread and salt, symbolised not only respect for Tito but also a desire to demonstrate unity between Yugoslavia and the USSR. The entire discourse aimed to showcase restored fraternity after the Stalin-era conflict. Interestingly, even in a sports newspaper—traditionally focused on physical culture—Tito’s image was politicised and integrated into the state’s ideological rhetoric34. Brezhnev’s rise to power contributed to stabilising Soviet foreign policy, and during this time, official visits became an important tool for demonstrating loyalty, partnership, and ideological convergence. The solemn coverage of such events in the press, including the “Sportyvna Hazeta”, served as a marker of strong intergovernmental relations and proof that Yugoslavia—despite its independent path—remained a desired ally in the socialist camp. Thus, even in media not intended for political analysis, visual and semiotic means were used to form and solidify the image of Tito as an equal and respected "comrade" who reinforced socialist unity. Accordingly, Soviet propaganda in the 1960s–70s sought to gradually and moderately transition toward normalising relations with Yugoslavia and with Josip Broz Tito personally. Symbolic recognition was returned to him as the leader of a socialist state, albeit without the hyperbolic heroization that characterised the immediate postwar years. At the same time, it’s important to emphasise that this process took place without any public reconsideration or even mention of the earlier Soviet propaganda campaign against Tito, when he was vilified as a “traitor to socialism” and an “agent of imperialism.” The former rhetoric was simply ignored, while a new narrative was constructed, focusing on “friendship,” “cooperation,” and “socialist solidarity.” The methods used by the Soviet propaganda apparatus remained unchanged: tightly controlled press, centralised message formulation, ritualised coverage of visits (official ceremonies, mass greetings, children with flowers, bread and salt, etc.), and the manipulative creation of a positive image through visual and textual markers. All of this served as a tool for shaping the collective imagination of “unity among socialist nations,” even when this unity was built on past conflict and contradictions. Thus, Soviet media created the illusion of uninterrupted friendship, denying the ideological war of the past, and instead convincing Soviet citizens of the stability and inviolability of international socialist unity, now once again symbolised by Josip Broz Tito. Conclusion: from hero, to traitor, to ally again The Ukrainian community—both under Soviet control, during Nazi occupation, and in emigration—showed significant interest in the geopolitical developments centred around Yugoslav leader Josip Broz Tito. His persona deserves special attention and in-depth study, as he navigated between competing ideologies, both of which exploited his image for their own political goals. Accordingly, his portrayal changed multiple times to suit the rhetoric that was advantageous at any given moment — facts were manipulated, information was withheld, or reality was deliberately distorted. From the analysis, it becomes clear that the media of the postwar Ukrainian émigré community in Austria are less biased and more reliable sources than all others analysed. These outlets were sceptical of both the Nazis and the Soviets but viewed events through the lens of their primary goal—restoring Ukrainian statehood. During the short but active period of German occupation, Tito was portrayed exclusively as a "follower of Soviet Bolshevik policy," which they perceived as criminal and illegitimate. In Soviet discourse, Tito’s image underwent dramatic transformations: from glorification—being placed on the same level as Stalin and celebrated in poetry—to complete repudiation, accusations of betrayal, distortion of the recent “heroic” past, and being labelled an "agent of Anglo-American imperialism" and an "enemy of the working people." This turning point was a result of the political split between Stalin and Tito. However, with the rise of a more liberal leadership, and without publicly acknowledging past mistakes or expressing regret, a process of cautious normalisation began—a return to a positive portrayal of Tito, though in a more reserved form. This example shows how perceptions of historical figures depend less on their actual actions and positions than on how they are portrayed, shaped by personal, ideological, and political biases. Footnotes
History Did Not Begin in 1999
If you would like to read this article in Serbian, click here. Author: Ana Milosavljević This article was originally published on author's Substack, where more of her critical writing is available. On the anniversary of NATO’s bombing of Serbia, a look at what public discourse remembers — and what it erases. A banner outside the Serbian parliament condemning NATO’s killing of children Every year on March 24, the same narrative dominates public discourse in Serbia: over 2,000 civilians killed in an illegal, unprovoked NATO aggression under the pretext of saving Kosovar Albanians. Politicians, the media, and unfortunately, many part of the so-called left in Serbia focus on the very real damage that the bombing inflicted, but do so without any recognition of what the Serbian state was doing in Kosovo in the years preceding the bombing. I spoke with two Albanian Kosovars and one Kosovar Serb about their interpretation of today’s commemoration, their thoughts on NATO and Serbian state violence, and what it will take for Serbs and Albanians to unite in a common struggle. Today, politicians and media outlets (both regime and opposition) frame the events of 27 years ago as one wherein Serbia was the sole victim. They frequently convey Albanian suffering at the hands of the Serbian state as a conspiracy conjured up by the West in order to justify intervention. The facts tell a very different story. NATO bombing of Novi Sad, Serbia in 1999 Between 1998 and 1999, Serbian forces displaced around 850,000 Albanians from their homes in Kosovo. By the end of the war, over 10,000 Albanians were killed and thousands were raped or tortured. Mass graves of Albanians were later found in multiple locations in Serbia, with nearly 1,000 bodies transferred and buried in secret. Many people are still missing to this day. Soldier testimonies are similarly disregarded in Serbian public discourse. One Serbian commander of a tank unit was recorded stating, “For the entire time I was in Kosovo, I never saw a single enemy soldier and my unit was never once involved in firing at military targets. The tanks which cost $2.5 million each were used to slaughter Albanian children… I am ashamed.” Regarding the systematic exclusion of these historical realities from today’s discourse, I spoke with Kosovar Albanians: Lea1, living in Prishtina, and Arbër, part of the Kosovar Albanian diaspora in London. Lea remarked that the presentation of the NATO bombing without any recognition of the suffering Albanians went through leaves her feeling “gaslit” and “dehumanized.” “It’s not a starting point that we can engage with…Because on our side there has also been a lot of work done to recognize victims of the war who were Serbs” she adds. Arbër similarly commented that “it feels like a slap in the face in many ways,” saying that such a narrative reflects a broader trend of erasure of the experiences Albanians in Kosovo have faced, not only during 1998–1999, but throughout the 20th century. This erasure did not begin in 1999. For Albanians, it reflects a longer history of repression, from early 20th century Yugoslav colonization campaigns to institutional discrimination and violence in the 1990s. A map from the 20th century that reads “Post-war colonization in southern Serbia” and includes Kosovo and North Macedonia. It’s not only Albanians who criticize this discourse. Marija Savić, from Gnjilana, Kosovo described the Serbian mainstream portrayal of the bombing as one of “selective memory” which “serves to reproduce a nationalist narrative.” “The focus is exclusively on Serbia as a victim of external aggression, while there is no systemic reckoning with the continuous repression of the Albanian people in Kosovo: from colonial policies and violence in the early 20th century, through institutional discrimination in Yugoslavia, to the open system of apartheid and repression against Albanians during the 1990s,” she said. It is precisely that context which helps explain why many Kosovar Albanians welcomed NATO’s intervention, which brought an end to Serbian rule in Kosovo. As Lea explains: “The intervention in 1999 stopped the war and enabled us to go back to our lives, homes, institutions. It can be true that the intervention was colonial in nature and caused civilian casualties and had other negative effects, and also that the period after the war and after the declaration of independence in 2008 brought a lot of hope to a lot of people here, who just a decade before were living their everyday lives in constant fear.” Arbër similarly described his own contradictory feelings about NATO: “Although I acknowledge NATO’s presence in Kosovo removed Serbia, which was a regional colonizer of us as a community, I also acknowledge the problems of NATO as a governing body as well… I’m not going to feel indebted for the rest of my life, and I’m not going to be morally manipulated by NATO as a governing body to erase the realities and the problematic things that they do as an institution.” Newspapers in Kosovo reporting the declaration of Kosovo Independence on February 17, 2008. Marija similarly stressed that it was necessary to critically assess both NATO and the Serbian state and that the two are not mutually exclusive. “The discourse in Serbia on this issue is entirely binary; if you criticize the role of the Serbian state, you are labeled an NGO traitor, while if you criticize NATO aggression, you are labeled a Serbian nationalist - yet neither of these is true. NATO and the Serbian state are very similar in their repressive and colonial policies.” Statements by US officials reinforce the argument that NATO’s intervention was not humanitarian in nature. As Strobe Talbott, US Deputy Secretary of State from 1994 to 2001, wrote: “It was Yugoslavia’s resistance to the broader trends of political and economic reform — not the plight of Kosovar Albanians — that best explains NATO’s war.” Lea and Arbër both expressed a willingness to critically examine NATO’s role in Kosovo — on the condition that Serbian society confronts its own revisionist narratives. “I’m open to participating in any conversation that critiques the existence of NATO, but I feel a responsibility to first contend with the prejudices that prevent us from being equal participants in such conversations,” Lea said. As Arbër puts it, “on a fundamental basis, you can’t be in solidarity with people who don’t want you to have the same level of equality that they do.” The perception that Serbs do not want to live in equality with Albanians can be seen in many instances, most recently with the use of the pejorative word for Albanian used in chants against Serbian President Vučić at anti-government protests in the past year. Marija describes her own journey in confronting these realities: “It took a great deal of unlearning to free myself from anti-Albanian sentiment and nationalism… I believe that internationalism and class unity in the struggle against capitalism are the only path to the liberation of all Balkan peoples.” A lack of information about the oppressive role of the Serbian state against Albanians makes overcoming such biases difficult. After witnessing Serb after Serb not know basic historical facts about Kosovo, Arbër founded the educational and cultural platform Balkanism in 2020. Balkanism strives to deconstruct ethno-nationalist narratives from across the region through celebrating similarities and differences, while acknowledging historical oppression of various communities. “I understand that within a nation-state framework, all of us have associated ourselves with our state as an extension of ourselves. But I feel like the moment we start deconstructing that and see ourselves more as vessels of culture, history, and identity that overlap, we’re able to communicate in a way that feels much more human-centered” he says. Cover of Balkanism magazine’s first issue, published in September 2024. While Marija transformed through education and a reckoning of her own anti-Albanian biases, she believes that meaningful transformation cannot be reduced to the individual. “Anti-Albanian sentiment and the refusal to confront the past are deeply rooted in the ideological apparatuses of the Serbian state.” To adequately transform Serbian society, its political and economic systems must be changed, she says. For her, that necessitates a class-based analysis which sees that workers in Serbia and Kosovo have common interests against the ruling capitalist elite in both countries. She believes the approach should be two-fold: Serbians should unconditionally recognize Kosovo’s right to self-determination, dismantle the myth of Kosovo as the “heart of Serbia”, and rebuild class politics and internationalism. On the other end, the working class in Kosovo should reject their own ruling elite and work to expel imperialist forces from its territory, she says. Whether such unity is possible, Lea and Arbër are split. “Considering the deep distrust that exists, and so much pain and lack of accountability, it is hard to imagine how that can be overcome. And we see with how Albanians are being treated in Serbia in 2026, the irredentist Kosovo graffiti and anti-Albanian chants, that nothing has changed. On our side there is a lot of what feels like insurmountable enmity as well. Due to how the war and our political situation shaped me, there’s a part of me that for a while now has been mentally preparing for another war. And that is what gives me urgency to get involved with this conversation” Lea revealed. For Arbër, working towards a common future begins with forging genuine connections across ethnic lines. “I’m a very hopeful individual. A part of my own practice in my life is all about forging relations with communities from supposedly “the other side.” This has been a core aspect of my life and my practice. I see it as righting historical wrongs and undoing the colonial violence that was imposed on Kosovo, and establishing relations with communities that we share so much with historically and culturally,” he said. In various contexts, history is presented as beginning at a politically convenient moment. In Palestine, Western mainstream media and political elites would have you believe history began on October 7, 2023. In Serbia, a similar establishment class claims history began on March 24, 1999, rendering what came before irrelevant. This approach weaponizes a lack of education to justify systemic prejudices that ultimately do not serve the interests of ordinary people. As the conversations in this piece suggest, confronting these narratives requires more than information alone. It demands a willingness to listen, to question inherited assumptions, and to engage with uncomfortable truths. The path towards lasting peace in the Balkans does not include selective memory, but is instead based on an honest, objective look at the past: one which makes space for all those whose experiences have long been denied.
Color Revolution between Protests and Media Narratives
How the term “color revolution” is misused in Serbian pro-government media to delegitimize student protests Author: Luka Murišić, PhD student of History at the University of Belgrade Railway station incident in Novi Sad deeply influenced public discourse in Serbia. Question of responsibility very quickly emerged as priority topic in media and allegations for corruption and non-transparent construction deals resulted in public outcry for prosecution of all officials responsible for death of sixteen people. Students’ protests which are still ongoing since December 2024 showed that government and politicians are not willing to respond on public calls and to fulfill demands. The media as a unique image of one society at a specific time reveals the dichotomy in reports and attitudes towards the protests and its participants. Some media related to government officials tended to report on protests in an unprofessional manner, followed by various etiquettes of political and historical connotations. This paper will try to shed light on one aspect of the negative presentation in issue of the usage of the term “colored revolution”. This research is based on news articles containing term “color revolution” and academic articles addressing the topic of protests at the end of the second and the beginning of the third millennium. Also, I used the articles from media outlets with critical attitude towards the policy of Serbian Progressive party. Sourced from https://protesti.pics What Exactly Is a “Color Revolution”? This particular question ought to reveal what is actually a “color revolution” and what is the meaning of the term. Understanding original meaning and insight in academic papers dealing with various examples of civic protests is essential for analysis and this article in general. Political and social changes in former socialist countries produced various consequences, where one of them is political instability. Collapse of Soviet Union and socialist regimes did not mean immediate democratization of state apparatus and society in general but left enough space for rise of authoritarian and semi-authoritarian regimes. Democratization therefore was not an instant outcome of the processes at the end of the twentieth and at the beginning of the twenty-first century. Change of governments, followed by elections and non-violent protests which aim was a democratization of society are called “color revolutions”. Peculiar name does not refer to their outcome, but to the symbol or color protesters had used. As different articles show, the most referred examples of these “revolutions” are from Serbia (2000), Georgia (2003) and Ukraine (2004, 2014). Mentioned term also comprises events in other cases such as Slovakia (1998), Kyrgyzstan (2005) and unsuccessful examples in cases of Russia and Belarus. Key characteristic in all mentioned cases is a non-violent protests. Semi-authoritarian and authoritarian regimes, in which elections are marked with various scandals and breachment of laws, create setting for the adoption of “electoral model” of protests, where citizens tend to defend their victory on elections and protect the voting results. Nonetheless, this model is often seen as appropriate due to its non-violent character. However, the studies reveal that “revolutions” are not happening following the identical pattern, neither they must be successful. Various cases show that success of the protests lies in multiple factors which, even though they are similar in all cases, are not key for accomplishment. Factors such as unity of oppositional parties, massive and non-violent protests, participation of youth movements and elections may not be decisive. Scholars and protest experience emphasize the importance of country’s economic situation, its position in international relations, government reliance on coercion apparatus as equally important for outcome of the protests. Examples from Serbia, Ukraine and Georgia clearly show the importance of the mentioned factors. While in Serbian case difficult economic situation and losses in war campaigns gave impetus for protests, in case of Ukraine’s Orange revolution (2004) and Revolution of Dignity (2014) war and economic situation were not relevant factors. Still, the Georgian and Serbian case stress the importance of country's relations to its neighbors and attitude of important police and security officials towards the current government. Demonstrations against Shevardnadze and Milošević more relied on mass mobilization of citizens and united political opposition with common leader, while in Ukrainian examples the same cannot be confirmed. However, three cases have similarities regarding the participation of youth movements, financial and logistical support for protesters and civil society organizations, and the role of oppositional, independent media. Moreover, it is evident that protesters from different countries used similar methods, keeping in mind that they were empirically proven to be successful, and activists and organizations maintained their mutual international connections. Photo by Jana Krstic, editorial board of Balkan Talks How the Term “Color Revolution” Is Used in Serbian Media Various newspapers and media outlets took part in the media campaign of labelling the students as “foreign mercenaries” and their struggle as “colored revolution”, but despite that, it must be examined how media used the mentioned term and what eventually they wanted to emphasize. Moreover, it is important to see how pro-government politicians understand the term “colored revolution” and on what they are alluding to while using the term. For this purpose, I analyzed 64 news articles from two daily online newspapers with pro-government stances, Večernje Novosti and Kurir. Used articles can be found under tag “obojena revolucija” and they are posted in period between January to May 2025. In all of them, “color revolution” is mentioned in either title or text itself. The articles show that term is mentioned at least once, very often can be seen only in headlines. Government politicians, including most notable ones such as president, prime minister and ministers used this term to describe the events on the streets. Their statements are marked with a call for attention, in which they tend to label protests as something dangerous and destructive. The development of a specific attitude towards the “color revolution” during a period of time can be traced. During the selected period, the attitude in statements varied from acknowledging potential threat to expression of victory. Both statements could be seen during the same month or short time period. Moreover, statements about “color revolution” also come from foreign politicians and state officials. The given statements are different depending on the actual real-time context. Politicians insist in statements that every big gathering of citizens is an attempt of color revolution and consequently that it will not bring any change. That was the case with protest on 15th of March which was labeled as the attempt of “color revolution”. Articles from this period show some typical notions in the regime’s attitude towards the mentioned term. For government representatives, the color revolution is always sponsored by external factors, acting through non-governmental organizations such as USAID or NED. External factors finance the oppositional parties and non-governmental organizations, and sponsor professional media. Protests follow clear patterns which are practiced in countries where protests have already taken place. Methods of civil disobedience are trained with the assistance of civil society organizations, who are seen as elements of foreign influence. “Revolution”, as we can conclude from statements, cannot bring any positive change. Revolution has a negative connotation and directly implies negative consequences such as poverty, instability and loss of national sovereignty on society and state in general. Statements show that “color revolutions” lead countries into poverty and destabilization. The rhetorics of government officials often tends to picture protests as backlash to development of Serbian economy and society in general. For them, the only consequence of “revolution” is “weak Serbia on its knees”. Students and citizens therefore are being manipulated and tricked while taking part in the destruction of their country. The revolution implies the usage of violence. In particular, the relation between protests in Eastern Europe and the whole government narrative of “color revolutions” can be followed. As something completely negative, the same can be related for Orange revolution and Revolution of Dignity which happened in Ukraine. Through the lens of these articles, there is a monolithic, black-white image of these events. They are externally supported, they had only negative consequences on Ukraine, they were represented as unwanted scenario of the protests. Ukraine is seen as geopolitical playground and unstable country. Also, these events represent a pattern for protests which will be used in Serbian case. The Political Context in Serbia Protests are inseparable from the social and political context in which they took place. Context is marked with the rule of Serbian Progressive party and its impacts on Serbian society in general. The canopy disaster was a strong impetus for protests and wider expression of popular dissatisfaction with the regime. Experts and analysts very often refer to Serbia as stabilitocracy, where the country and society lay somewhere in between democracy and autocracy, and European Union and Russia. Specific political background is shaped by clientelism, suspension of ordinary politics, undermined system of separation of power, and permanent campaign mode of ruling party. The past decade since 2012 was marked with democratic backsliding which severely impacted professional journalism and media rights. Moreover, various individuals who criticized the politics of government and Serbian Progressive Party have been object of media campaign of disinformation and abuse. The rule of Serbian Progressive party was also marked with historical revisionism used for propaganda purposes. Regime officials and intellectuals tended to promote revised, black-white image of the past, especially of the twentieth century. Sourced from https://protesti.pics Media Spin and Delegitimization of Student Protests In context of protests, pro-government media developed various media spins in their reports on students’ protests. Journalists already identified more than ten different media spins used to put off responsibility from the government for railway station disaster and to legitimize their media campaign against protests. Having that in mind, it is not unusual to see that students’ protests are followed with accusations from pro-government media of ongoing “colored revolution”. News outlets and media in general became instruments of political struggle for power and repression. The mentioned term is used to discredit the students and civil protests, but also to drive other citizens away from protests and therefore to suppress any kind of dissonant voice. Ultimately, the idea of ongoing “color revolution” is nothing more than a product from pro-government media, who are prone to lead negative media campaigns against any political actor who seems oppositional. News articles referring to the “colored revolution” including statements of politicians and analysts reveal how members of the ruling party perceive civic protests in general and how the term itself reflects peculiar moral and ideological values. Labeled as threat, “revolution” is seen as negative, moreover, the statements reveal that “revolution” is an attack on personality of the president and in general an attack on the Serbian country and nation. Consequently, the politicians from regime have moral obligation to protect Serbia by suppressing the dissonant voices. The protests are nothing more than expression for need for power, while demands represent paravane. For regime which legitimacy is being questioned, the popular voice of dissent is expected to be named as “color revolution”. As it was explained earlier, this accusation is an attempt to regain support and evade responsibility for corruption. Is the Threat Real? Mass protests led by students cannot be understood as “color revolution” at all. Their length (the protests began in December 2024, and they are still ongoing), student’s call for parliamentary elections and mass gatherings in combination with small protests around Serbia very clearly stand out from all protests who can be described as “revolution”. Even the initial four demands are something different from the events which happened in Ukraine and Georgia. Also, the whole political setting in Serbia is different from the circumstances which have led to fall of Milošević in 2000. While there is a non-democratic regime, there is no united political opposition in the country and no common candidate to replace the current regime. Political parties are fragmented on a series of questions, where one of which is support and attitude for student protests. Simultaneously, the students are declining any offer for cooperation with political parties, at the same time introducing local assemblies (zborovi) as a new method of social organization. Ultimately, it is debatable whether there is any international support for protests. While Russian politicians perceive the protests in the same manner as the government, European officials, even though acknowledging the civic need for effective institutions and rule of law in Serbia, remain reluctant to openly place on either of two sides and therefore still give recognition to the current regime. Conclusion: A Manufactured Narrative To conclude, narrative on the ongoing “color revolution” is part of the regime’s media campaign to discredit the protests and preserve its status while pointing to the danger of the national interests. The mentioned term is used to create false narratives about protests and to completely discredit the students. Media reports filled with historical connotations also must provide moral and historical legitimacy for government’s actions. At the same time, students and young people are represented as manipulated and instrumentalized. Articles show that examples from recent Ukrainian history - Orange revolution (2004) and Revolution of Dignity (2014) are used as scarecrow to mobilize citizens against ongoing protests and discredit the leaders of oppositional parties and students. In that sense, colored revolution, no matter when and where it happened, is seen as danger for any country and society and brings violent change of government, infiltration of foreign elements and their intelligence activity and ultimately the collapse of society. Protests are always followed with activities of foreign intelligence services, which represent one-sided narrative on complex historical events. At the same time, students were labeled and connected with historical figures and events which have negative connotation in revised history of the twentieth century in Serbia. The diversity of politicians and public figures whose statements about ongoing revolution are used in research must provide a sense of genuity and warn public opinion on potential threats.
Stories
Demographic Drain Meets Electoral Gain: Youth Emigration and Majorities
Author: Vilson Blloshmi This paper advances a clear claim: successive emigration & youth emigration waves have contributed to the increasing electoral support of Albania’s Socialist ruling party. The mechanism runs through electorate composition (older at home), turnout depression in youth-heavy areas, and selective mobilization of diaspora-origin voters. A key empirical puzzle is why diaspora-origin voting appears to favour incumbents (~61%) despite exit motives rooted in domestic shortcomings. This study will examine how demographic change, especially youth emigration, influences elections in Albania and why both resident voters and diaspora-origin voters often support the ruling Socialist Party. Photo: pixabay/wal_172619 Context and Background Albania’s age structure and migration balance have shifted markedly, while election observation repeatedly flags barriers that disproportionately burden younger voters, information gaps, procedural frictions, and low institutional trust. These trends intersect with party organization and media environments to sustain large majorities alongside uneven participation. Levitsky & Way use “competitive authoritarianism” to describe regimes where formal democratic institutions exist and opposition can compete, but the contest is systematically skewed because incumbents abuse state power, so elections are real, yet not fully free and fair. Such regimes are competitive, in that democratic institutions are not merely a façade: opposition parties use them to seriously contest for power; but they are authoritarian in that opposition forces are handicapped by a highly uneven—and sometimes dangerous—playing field. Competition is thus real but unfair.1In their framework, the key test is an uneven playing field across major battles (elections, media, and the state bureaucracy), where rules are applied selectively and public resources are used to entrench the governing party. Applied to Albania after the Socialist Party’s historic May 11, 2025 win (83/140 seats) with 53.3% of the vote, the outcome alone doesn’t “prove” competitive authoritarianism because landslides can happen in democracies too. But the conditions reported around the election align with Levitsky & Way’s warning signs: international observers and major outlets pointed to misuse of public resources, uneven media coverage, and allegations of pressure and intimidation, all classic mechanisms that can keep elections competitive while making them unfair. OSCE&ODIHR stated that: The ruling party benefitted from widespread use of administrative resources during the campaign, creating an undue advantage of incumbency. There were also numerous allegations of pressure on voters, especially public employees. Further, the electoral legislation and its narrow interpretation by the election administration did not prevent abusive practices.2 So the strongest argument is that Albania shows competitive-authoritarian tendencies: opposition parties exist and contest power, yet repeated dominant victories are reinforced by a state environment where incumbents appear to enjoy structural advantages such as resources, visibility or influence over institutions that weaken the possibility of genuine alternation. If these patterns persist, especially around media pluralism, enforcement against vote-buying and pressure, and institutional independence Levitsky & Way’s label becomes more applicable, not because the opposition is banned, but because competition remains meaningful while the field stays tilted. Albanian Electoral System The Parliament of the Republic of Albania consists of 140 members of parliament, who are elected for a 4-year term. The electoral system for the Assembly is a proportional representation system with multi-member electoral districts. For parliamentary elections, each electoral district corresponds to the administrative-territorial division of the qark (county). The total number of electoral districts is 12, and the number of parliamentary mandates per district ranges from 3 seats in Kukës County to 37 seats in Tirana County. Local government elections are held to elect 61 mayors and 1,603 members of municipal councils across the country. Mayors and municipal council members are directly elected for a 4-year term. For local elections, the electoral district corresponds to the administrative-territorial division of the municipality. Mayors are elected through a majoritarian system, while municipal council members are elected through a proportional system with closed lists. The number of municipal council seats in each municipality is determined based on population and ranges from 15 to 61 mandates. Council mandates are allocated among parties and coalitions using the d’Hondt method, while the distribution of seats among parties within a coalition is done using the Saint-Lague method. Freedom of movement or running from a reality? As of every time a government official, member of council of ministers, members of parliament from the Socialist Party, or expert supporting the government argues why Albanians are leaving the country at such massive and vast numbers they tend to reduce the importance of such a topic. The Prime Minister Rama states several times that youth emigration is a normal outcome of freedom of movement and individual choice, not a national tragedy. He argues that people have the right to test life abroad, and that portraying emigration as “the worst thing” is, in his view, an exaggerated political/media narrative. He also claims emigration has brought benefits to Albania (skills, experience, broader culture), and suggests the public debate becomes distorted because today everything is amplified “online.” In meetings with young people, he doubles down on3 the idea that if someone believes there is no future in Albania, they should be free to try leaving, but he insists that the “no future” claim is wrong, and that simple wage comparisons ignore living costs abroad. Rama argues that emigration should be treated 4 as a normal, long-running (“historical”) phenomenon tied to freedom of movement, and says the public debate in Albania often turns into hyperbole rather than a calm discussion based on facts.Rama even points to comparisons like 2017, when around 39,905 people left Albania versus 50,000 from EU-member Croatia, to claim the narrative is often exaggerated. From the other hand the emigration of youth and young people in the last5 decade are unimaginable. 1 milion Albanians have left the country during last 16 years according to Eurostat cited by Monitor.al6 From 2008 to 2024 about one million Albanian citizens received a first-time residence permit in a European Union country, according to Eurostat data. This increase, from around 97,780 permits in 2008 to nearly one million by 2024, shows a continuous and accelerating wave of people leaving Albania for the EU. These emigrants now represent a large share of the country’s working-age population, and the true number would be even higher if Albanians who moved to non-EU destinations such as the United Kingdom, the United States or Canada were also included. The figures point to a major demographic shift that is slowly changing the profile of those who remain in the country. Albania showed the highest annual expatriation rate of nationals to OECD countries in 2023 (22 per 1 000 inhabitants). Romania (13), Bulgaria (12), Bosnia and Herzegovina (11) and Cuba (11) were the other countries with two-digit figures. The reasons behind this trend 7 are linked to economic difficulties, limited job opportunities, high informality in the labour market and the lack of long-term security for many young people. Family8 reunification and chances for better education also play an important role. As emigration becomes widespread, its effects on Albania’s social and political life are becoming more visible, including a shrinking workforce, loss of skilled professionals, an ageing population and new electoral dynamics. The scale of the exodus shows that this is not only a demographic issue but a deeper structural change with serious implications for the country’s future. Emigrant Share of Total Population, Albania second after Bulgaria with 41.9% and projections show that the decline might go to 15.8% by the end of 2050.9 "Southeastern Europe is experiencing one of the sharpest depopulations in the world, led by Bulgaria, whose population is projected to drop nearly one-quarter by 2050. The most significant factor behind this trend is migration to Western Europe, which has remained widespread since the post-communist and post-conflict transition periods of the 1990s and 2000s. For example, half the total population in Bosnia and Herzegovina and 42 percent in Albania reside abroad, often in Western Europe."10 The demographic picture may be bleakest in Bulgaria, which is on course to face the world’s highest single-country depopulation rate over the next 30 years, according to the United Nations Population Division. Yet Serbia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Albania, and Romania are not far behind, each expecting declines of 15 percent or more over the next three decades (see Projections). This phenomenon is occurring even as the world’s population is expected to increase by 2 billion people, to 9.7 billion in 2050.11 Elections and turnout - is it a deadlock? The Socialist Party won the general elections in coalition with another left wing party "Socialist Movement for Integration on 2013 to never lose it up to date. After the first term in coalition with SMI, on the 2017 elections and onwards the Socialist Party won the elections and the majority in the Parliament as a sole party. In this section we will see how the turnout percentages changed through years and if the voters taking part in the general election declined or not. Youth Voting trends In Albania, the Youth Study points to a downward tendency in youth turnout. The share of eligible young respondents who say they voted in the last parliamentary elections fell from 76.8% in 2018 to 73.8% in 2024, while those who did not vote rose from 23.2% to 26.2%. The change is not dramatic, but it signals a clear direction: a gradual erosion of12 electoral participation among young Albanians, even as voting remains the most common form of political involvement. This decline looks even more significant when placed next to the broader engagement profile. In other words, as youth turnout shows signs of slipping, there is not a strong “backup” of other participation channels to compensate. The overall picture is of a generation that is becoming more distant from politics beyond election day, which risks turning a small drop in turnout today into deeper disengagement over time unless trust, representation, and everyday relevance of politics improve. General elections 25 april 2021 General elections of 2021 were held in a tense political climate as one person was assassinated during the last days of electoral campaign The turnout resulted to be13 46.33%. The official turnout data from the 2021 Albanian general elections shows significant variation across the twelve qarqe, with overall participation remaining relatively low at the national level. Out of 3,588,869 registered voters, only 1,662,274 cast a ballot, producing a nationwide turnout of 46.33 percent. Female participation was slightly lower, with 799,094 women voting out of 1,776,128 registered female voters, or 44.99 percent. Tirana recorded the highest number of voters, with 484,769 people participating, representing a turnout of 53.24 percent. Its female turnout rate was similarly strong at 52.01 percent. Dibër also stood above the national average with a participation rate of 52.68 percent, and women in this district voted at an even higher rate of 53.44 percent. Other districts that approached or exceeded the 50 percent threshold include Kukës, with 49.25 percent turnout, and Korçë, which reached 46.14 percent. By contrast, several regions displayed markedly lower participation. Vlorë recorded the weakest turnout in the country at just 33.56 percent, with women voting at an even lower rate of 31.67 percent. Gjirokastër also reported low engagement, with only 38.85 percent of voters and 37.31 percent of women casting ballots. Shkodër and Durrës likewise fell below the national average, standing at 41.86 percent and 44.96 percent respectively. Most districts showed turnout levels in the mid-40 percent range, such as Berat at 44.20 percent, Lezhë at 44.08 percent, Fier at 45.35 percent, and Elbasan at 47.86 percent. In nearly all regions, female turnout lagged slightly behind male turnout, though the gap varied by district. Overall, the 2021 elections confirmed persistent patterns of low participation, strong regional disparities, and noticeable gender differences. These dynamics are essential for understanding electoral behavior and for linking turnout patterns to broader demographic shifts, including youth emigration and population decline. The OSCE/ODIHR final report on the 2021 Albanian elections stated that voters were offered a genuine choice of candidates, campaigns took place freely, and fundamental rights were generally respected. However, the mission also identified several structural issues that created an uneven playing field. The ruling party benefited from its influence over local administrations and the misuse of state resources, while the overall campaign environment was affected by widespread allegations of vote-buying. Media coverage14 was heavily unbalanced in favour of incumbents, with frequent overlap between government activities and party messaging, which further strengthened the ruling party’s advantage. Despite the Central Election Commission administering the process in an organized and transparent manner, long-standing systemic problems remained unresolved. These included weak oversight of campaign financing, concerns about personal data protection, and legislative gaps that allow continued political manipulation. In response to these issues, OSCE/ODIHR issued twenty-three recommendations aimed at improving the integrity of future elections, with emphasis on securing the secrecy of the vote, strengthening investigations into vote-buying, protecting citizens’ data, and ensuring fair and independent media conditions for all contestants. Last General elections 2025 - an electoral anomaly? The official turnout figures show that participation in the most recent elections varied widely across Albania’s twelve districts. Out of more than 3.46 million registered voters nationwide, around 1.46 million cast a ballot, giving a general turnout rate of 42.25 percent. Tirana recorded the highest number of voters, with more than 450,000 people participating and a turnout rate of 49.29 percent. Dibër also performed strongly with 49.07 percent turnout, followed by Kukës at 45.56 percent. In contrast, Vlorë had the lowest participation in the country, where only 30.40 percent of registered voters took part. Shkodër and Gjirokastër also reported lower engagement, at 36.81 percent and 35.81 percent respectively. Most other districts, including Berat, Lezhë, Korçë, Fier and Elbasan, remained in the low-forties range. A comparison of the two election cycles shows a noticeable decline in voter participation across almost all districts. In the 2021 general elections, national turnout stood at 46.33 percent, with over 1.66 million voters participating. By contrast, in the later election the nationwide turnout fell to 42.25 percent, with about 1.46 million voters casting a ballot. This means participation dropped by more than four percentage points overall. Several districts that performed strongly in 2021, such as Korçë, Elbasan, Fier and Lezhë, recorded lower turnout in the more recent vote. Vlorë remained the weakest both times, but its turnout decreased even further, moving from 33.56 percent in 2021 to only 30.40 percent. Shkodër and Gjirokastër also showed continued low engagement, confirming a wider pattern of regional stagnation and decline. Voting trends of Serbian diaspora The dynamics of diaspora voting offer a revealing lens through which to examine how formally competitive elections can be subtly re-engineered in favor of incumbents. In line with Levitsky and Way’s framework, both Albania and Serbia illustrate how electoral openness can coexist with increasingly uneven playing fields shaped by participation patterns and organizational power. Dr. Dejan Bursać’s answers are useful because they point to a shared pattern Albania and Serbia can display in Levitsky & Way’s terms: elections remain formally open and opposition parties still run, yet incumbents can steadily stack the odds in their favor by shaping participation and building durable political machines. In Serbia, he recalls that 10–15 years ago diaspora voting was tiny (around 10,000 voters) and the bulk of those votes tended to go to liberal, pro-European parties. Later, once voting procedures became simpler and more accessible, diaspora turnout reportedly rose (around 30,000 about a decade ago), and the balance shifted today, he says, most diaspora votes go to the ruling party. Bursać offers two explanations that map onto Levitsky & Way’s “uneven playing field” logic. First, he links the new pro-government diaspora pattern to who participates: working-class, older, and less-qualified emigrants are described as more likely to back incumbents, often because they value stability, patronage, or tangible benefits. Second, he highlights a transnational party infrastructure: the SNS’s organizational networks, he argues, are well-funded and active even in neighboring countries and diaspora hubs, which can mobilize turnout and preference formation at scale. The combination of expanded access + targeted mobilization capacity can flip diaspora outcomes without needing to ban opponents, exactly the type of mechanism that keeps elections “competitive” but structurally advantages incumbents. Migration benefits the authorities Despite the clear decline in turnout between the two elections, the evidence shows that demographic change itself is a key driver of lower participation and that this shift helps explain the outcome. In the most recent election, the party secured 83 mandates and 53.29 percent of the vote, a level of dominance which is contradictory when facing huge demographic drain. Youth emigration reduces the size of the most turnout-volatile segment of the electorate and weakens the social networks that typically pull young voters into politics. As a result, the electorate that remains is older, more settled, and more likely to vote regularly. In other words, turnout falls not only because of “political apathy,” but because the country’s demographic structure is changing: fewer young people are physically present, and those who stay are a shrinking share of the voting-age population. The patterns in youth preferences and voting habits analyzed fit this logic: many young citizens do not vote because they see limited personal payoff from participation, feel underrepresented by party offerings, and increasingly treat migration as the main strategy for improving life chances. "Exit” over “voice”. Among those who do vote, choices tend to be shaped less by long-term partisan loyalty and more by short-term calculations like stability, access, and perceived effectiveness, while clientelistic or mobilization networks can further tilt participation toward groups that are easier to reach and motivate. Taken together, youth emigration and youth disengagement do not just lower turnout; they change who turns out by producing an electorate that is narrower and more predictable and thus, making it easier for an incumbent with strong organizational reach to maintain and even deepen dominance despite a shrinking overall voter pool. For Albania, this creates a useful comparative hypothesis: the Socialist Party’s dominant result can be interpreted not simply as popularity, but as potentially reinforced by incumbent-friendly mobilization channels (party networks, patronage linkages, messaging capacity, and administrative leverage) that operate at home and, possibly, through diaspora voting procedures and outreach. The comparative punchline is not “Albania = Serbia,” but that both cases may show how incumbents in hybrid regimes can convert expanding participation (including diaspora voting) into dominance, while maintaining the outward form of pluralist competition, one of Levitsky & Way’s core signatures of competitive authoritarianism.
Investigating the role of victimhood in the construction of contemporary Serbian national identity using the Generalštab as a case study
Author: Skye Warner-Mackintosh Centrally located on Kneza Miloša Street is the ruins of the former Yugoslav Generalštab building. Coming to the city for the first time in February 2023, it was the first thing I noticed upon arriving at the main train station. The building towers over you, occupying both sides of the street, and you are engulfed in the symbolic history of Yugoslavia and the contemporary struggle for a unanimous Serbian identity. The symbolic meanings of the building are not immediately apparent; you are invited to create your own meaning from the ruins before you. Unlike other remnants of the NATO bombing, such as the RTS bombing site, the Generalštab is impossible to miss; it is not subtle and located right in the heart of Belgrade. Photo: Gavrilo Andrić Furthermore, the remains of the Generalštab building are a unique example of the maintenance of architectural ruins. Often, post-conflict reconstruction takes place as a prelude to identity reformation and healing (Ortiz and Córdoba, 2023). The question of what to do with buildings in the aftermath of conflict is often dealt with promptly, and buildings are often restored to their original historic design, preserved as ruins (although this is uncommon), or removed completely. The post-war period of reconstruction across Europe saw many German cities rebuild, with historically significant buildings either being preserved (and used as a museum or monument) or removed and rebuilt. Thus, for many places, rebuilding and commemoration are essential aspects of national bonding in post-conflict reconciliation, and this rebuilding is crucial in the healing process (Ejdus, 2017: 25). Therefore, the Generalštab has “spontaneously grown into an inseparable part of the Belgrade cityscape and a de facto national monument of defiance and victimhood” (Ejdus, 2017: 36). It is laden with unambiguous meaning and, therefore, has been a crucial site of Serbian national-identity formation, specifically for people living in Belgrade, following the dissolution of Yugoslavia and remains to this day a highly controversial and puzzling symbolic urban space. This essay will critically examine the role of victimhood in Serbian national identity formation following the dissolution of Yugoslavia in 1991 and subsequent ethnic-conflicts across the Western Balkans. Using the Generalštab as an example, this essay analyses three central ‘readings’ of the building as advocated by Bădescu (2019): victimhood, injustice and resistance. Here, I make the distinction between state and societal victimhood, ultimately arguing that the building is a key signifier of the Serbian state's geopolitical and mnemonic identity, yet also highlights growing resentment and resistance to this regime. Historic Background On the 25th of June 1991, Croatia and Slovenia declared independence from the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRJ). This marked the end of a union of South Slavs that had spanned over much of the 20th century. The success of Yugoslavia is widely debated amongst historians, although there is consensus that, throughout the period of 1936-1990, it was relatively stable. The dissolution of Yugoslavia in 1991, therefore, was relatively surprising and, although many authors could have predicted an ‘inevitable’ collapse, the violent and bloody nature of the aftermath of the collapse was quite unpredictable. As discussed by Jovic (2001), the successive wars across the Western Balkans have numerous explanations, and it is impossible to pinpoint one ‘simple’ reason for the bloodshed that followed the dissolution. Whilst economic, socio-cultural, and political arguments have all been widely debated, it is clear that there was brewing discontent in the region throughout the 70s and 80s and Yugoslavia was largely tied to Tito. Therefore, following his death in 1980, the dissolution was not a matter of ‘if’ but, rather, ‘when’. It is impossible to give nuance to every argument on the dissolution of Yugoslavia when this essay’s purpose is to focus on the contemporary implications of these national dilemmas; however, it is important to understand the historical context that gave rise to different nationalist ideologies that dictated the nature of the breakup. However, for many historians, the question is not why Yugoslavia broke up, but, rather, why Yugoslavia broke up in the way that it did. With years of bloodshed and ethnic conflict, ending in 1999 with the NATO bombing of Belgrade. The brutal aftermath of the dissolution of Yugoslavia has been greatly influential in shaping contemporary national identities in the Western Balkans. With ethnic conflict spreading across the region following the dissolution and 100,000 lives lost, the scars of the 90s remain etched in the memories of people across the region, making it difficult to separate national identity from the collective memories of the 1990s. Thus, understanding the widespread bloodshed and victimhood of every ethnicity in the Western Balkans is important and gives insight into the contemporary geopolitical dynamics of the region. Theoretical Background Memory Assmann (2011) explores the relationship between the past and the self, arguing that the self would not exist without memories of the past. Here, “the human self is built from the stuff of time” (ibid.,15); we are products of stories, food, family histories, monuments, buildings and much more. Unlike traditional scholars of memory, Assmann argues that memory can often transgress the individual mind and can be promoted through inanimate objects (ibid.,17). Here, he makes the distinction between communicative and cultural memory. Whilst cultural memory is a collective preservation of the past (often through relics, monuments and symbols), communicative memory is much more subjective, often residing in the mundane tapestry of individual everyday life (ibid.,17). The city, therefore, is a site of both memory functions: in Belgrade, for example, one could walk through the city and reflect on the symbolism of the the Generalštab as a site of national bonding, whilst simultaneously reflecting individual symbolic histories interwoven in the urban fabric of the city. Bădescu (2019: 183) notes that “cities have long been arenas of political struggle”, Belgrade is no different. It has been at the centre of many historical events and empires, and has often been a city of conquest. Until the dissolution of Yugoslavia, Belgrade was the capital city of the republic and, therefore, a vessel of Yugoslav identity formation and nation-building. As such, Yugoslav territorial bonding was fixed in Belgrade, with Tito residing in the socialist heart of New Belgrade (Abram, 2014). Bădescu (2016; 2019) emphasises the active role of the city in constructing collective and cultural memories, as such, urban space becomes “a mediator for translating historic events into memory” and, within this, monuments are ‘selective aids’ in this process. Here, memory intersects with political experiences of urban space and a range of different actors are involved in interpreting sites of memory to make national symbolic meaning. Bernhard and Kubik (2014) refer to this as a ‘memory regime’ in which political elites, state institutions and civil society compete in defining historical interpretations as a strategy of legitimisation. As will be discussed later, the Generalštab building is symbolic of this power struggle, where different actors compete to assign a collective meaning to the building, either as a symbol of Western/NATO aggression, Serbian resilience, civil resistance or Yugonostalgia. Since 2014, when Vucic was elected, memory politics are ‘back’ in Serbia (Vukpalaj, 2025), representing a regime shift in how the 90s are commemorated and remembered in communicative and cultural memory. Victimhood Another central tenet that has anchored Serbian and wider post-Yugoslav national identity formation has been victimhood. Chouliaraki (2020: 8) defines victimhood as “a structure of affective communication that is deeply grounded in the past”. Thus, it marks an intersection of the past and present and requires subjective interpretation alongside political meaning-making to be useful. Hronešová (2025) states that victimhood has a strong unifying function and is often used to consolidate national identities and state narratives. Victimhood is, therefore, ontological and is defined based on a binary opposition of ‘us’ and ‘them’. This relational capacity of victimhood is particularly relevant in the Balkans, where there are different and competing experiences and interpretations of victimhood and history. Vukpalaj (2025) notes that victimhood can be mobilised by the state to achieve political aims and narratives. Specifically, narratives of Serbian victimhood, dating as far back as 1389, are used contempoaraily to justify the non-recognition of Kosovo as an independent state, particularly following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Moreover, victimhood is often top-down and state-led (Hronešová, 2025). Here, victimhood has a strong unifying function that can be monopolised by so-called memory regimes to serve the political elite. The pain and stories of the vulnerable can, therefore, be manipulated, creating an ‘ontological narrative framework’ that provides a basis for foreign policy, militarisation and the definition of the enemy. Hronešová explores how this has manifested in Serbia through so-called ‘strategic victimhood’. The concept of ‘strategic victimhood’ illustrates how elites propagate narratives of historical injustice and foreign hostility to mobilise a national identity based on a sense of collective suffering. Here, historical injustice is woven into the consolidation of national identity, particularly in relatively stable post-conflict societies, and the ‘us-them’ divide is solidified in policy. Moreover, elites can specifically harness the character of ‘victim’ through the notion of ‘hijacked victimhood’ (Hronešová and Kreiss, 2024). Hijacked victimhood is defined as a political strategy where already powerful groups or leaders claim victim status. Here, the typical narrative of victimhood is inverted to defend or expand their power, often by portraying themselves as oppressed by marginalised groups they then demonise, using this perceived threat to justify aggression, policies, or violence. However, as will be discussed later, there is a uniquely emancipatory potential within victimhood, which can be used to consolidate grievance against the elite and illuminate top-down memory regimes. Identity that contrasts Western values As discussed above, victimhood is often something that is ‘hijacked’ by political actors, anchoring national identity and translating history into new ontic narratives. The Generalštab represents a disputed site of national bonding, a site that is “craving unambiguous meaning” (Ejdus, 2017: 36). As a building, it is experienced subjectively by passersby, but it has also been mobilised by politicians and the state as a site of victimhood since Vučić came to power. In the aftermath of the dissolution of Yugoslavia, the topic of the 90s was mostly ignored by politicians, with conversations often dating back to WW2, or even further back to Ottoman and Habsburg occupation. It was only in 2014, when Vučić came to power, that victimhood from the NATO bombing began to reemerge into official state narratives, marking a political decision to mobilise victimhood. As argued by Ejdus (2017: 31), the building remains there in ruin because it is there to satisfy Serbia’s ontological security needs. It represents a “defiant and brave nation” and, through this, becomes a “de facto national monument of defiance and victimhood”. Thus, the Generalštab not only defines a new Serbian national identity, it also defines what this identity is not. It starkly contrasts Serbian identity with Western values, imbuing a sense of victimhood and struggle, which then determines foreign policy outcomes. A key way this has been achieved is through the involvement of the Serbian Orthodox church in commemoration. Although viewed as a ‘neutral vessel’ in Serbian politics, the Church has become increasingly influential, enjoying the highest levels of public trust intergenerationally and becoming one of the largest investors in Serbia (Marinović, 2025). As argued by Edina Bećirović, the Serbian Orthodox Church has become an important tool in state-driven narratives of a Greater Serbian project, providing “legitimacy under the guise of spirituality” (Marinović, 2025). Although the influence of the Church is a different conversation, this has had particular implications in the commemoration of the 1999 NATO bombings, and the Church has played a key role in discussions regarding the future of the Generalštab building. As stated by Patriarch Irinej, “those ruins which are located in the centre of Belgrade should never be repaired. Let there be a testimony of our time, a testimony of [the destruction brought by] cultured Europe, testimony of democratic Europe that cared about freedom and democracy” (found in Bădescu, 2019). Thus, the Church deems the existence of the ruins as a crucial component of national identity formation in opposition to Europe. The example of the SOC demonstrates how victimhood has been integrated as part of Serbian religious identity, which is inherently interlinked with new national identities. The existence of the building signifies resistance to Europeanism and represents a new Serbian national identity where historical memory is interpreted by the Church and the state. However, the framing of historical narratives of victimhood can also be mobilised for political gain. Vukpalaj (2025) argues that memory and victimhood can be used to justify foreign policy goals, and the existence of the Generalštab ruins can be used to negotiate new geopolitical relations for Serbia. In November 2025, the Serbian government passed a ‘lex specialis’ that allowed the redevelopment of the Generalštab building. This was a somewhat surprising shift in official memory rhetoric that has largely promoted the preservation of the ruins to promote a Serbian identity forged in victimhood, as discussed above. However, the government's lease of the building to Jared Kushner, Trump's son-in-law, who proposed to build luxury hotels and ‘Trump Towers’, showed a political divergence. However, some argue that this lease is geopolitically relevant, mobilising victimhood to improve Serbia’s political relations with a new right-wing administration in the US. Moreover, the framing of the bombing has been useful in developing closer ties with Russia and China, which historically opposed the bombing. Thus, victimhood has been hijacked to re-route Serbia’s political position in the international arena, yet there are areas of contention and resistance within these narratives, which will be discussed below. Bottom-up However, the ambiguous meaning of the building has also made it a site of public resistance where victimhood is interpreted differently. Here, the building's ontic meaning shifts from symbolic of European aggression and Serbian might to symbolic of a rich Yugoslav history and, more importantly, of continued government divergence from the desires of Serbian citizens. The architectural community of Belgrade have been a constant advocate for the reconstruction of the Generalštab to its original design. Importantly, the Generalštab was constructed as an ontic space in the 1960s as a symbol of Yugoslav unity against fascism. It was supposed to represent “features of a defiant and brave nation” (Ejdus, 2017) and is argued to be Serbia’s greatest feat of Socialist modernism, being architect Nikola Dobrović’s ‘magnum opus’. Thus, the alternatives of either destroying the building, leasing it, or keeping it in ruin all oppose the dramatic symbolism of Yugoslav unity that the building represents. Heritage watchdog DOCOMOMO stated that the destruction and lease of the building would be “erasure of a European masterpiece of modernist architecture and a symbol of Yugoslavia and Serbia’s post-war identity and creativity” (Docomomo, 2025). Furthermore, the decision would damage the relationship between Serbia and the European Union, which goes against 33% of the general public's support for integration. This shows that contemporary critical Serbian national identities often oppose state-led narratives, with parts of the population advocating for the country to embrace the original purpose and design of the building. In response to the government leasing the building to Jared Kushner, there were a series of protests outside the Generalštab building in 2025, led by the Student Blockade, uniting all people opposed to the lease under a ‘We are the Wall Protest’. Here, the argument was that history and memory cannot be erased by administrative measures or special laws passed urgently. Thus, the people stood unified against top-down narratives of victimhood and memory, calling for collective memories to reimagine Serbian identity through the preservation of these ruins. Finally, the Generalštab is a site of intergenerational resistance and represents resistance against the inequality created by the regime. For many, the symbolism is confusing and upsetting. Victimhood is still deployed here, but in more of a subtle way. As Bădescu (2019) argues, the Generalštab building represents a Western campaign against Belgrade that was paradoxical and unjust because the city also had the highest concentration of opposition to Milošević’s regime. Therefore, the building is symbolic of a historic regime that was somewhat opposed in the 90s, and acts as a reminder of this regime. However, whilst Serbian victimhood is still mostly operationalised in opposition to the West, the younger generation also feel a victimhood towards the regime itself. Hronešová (2025) examined victimhood in Serbian youth who had no experiences/direct memories of the 90s, finding that young people in Serbia feel that they are victims of the system more than they are victims of a concrete period in time. As one student stated: “We are victims of corruption rather than of wars” (Hronešová, 2025: 541). Despite this, they still emphasised the political elements of this. Serbia is seen as both a victim of domestic corruption and unjust international positioning, which is perhaps a legacy of the 90s. However, this example of positive victimhood has been mobilised throughout the student movements where, since 2024, students have become driving forces in fighting against top-down narratives of Serbian national identity, showing an optimism and promise for the future of national-identity where the memories and narratives can be made sense of in a rational way. Here, the Generalštab is representative of a new Serbia, led by a generation that is somewhat detached from the ontic reality of the 90s, that does not exist simply in opposition to the West, but also opposes hijacked narratives of victimhood that seek to exploit national-identity to pursue regimes of corruption. Generalštab still remains This essay has traced a historical evolution of Serbian national identity in relation to different victimhood narratives in contemporary Serbia. The Generalštab is widely agreed to be an ontic space symbolic of multiple ambiguous meanings, and this has demonstrated how these meanings are mobilised by different actors to achieve different goals. On one hand, it is symbolic of European and Western aggression against Serbia; its existence is a promise to a new Serbian national identity that is defined in opposition to the West, and it is a monument dedicated to defiance and victimhood. On the other hand, it is symbolic of Yugoslav identity and modernism, a European architectural wonder, and the current regime’s decision to collaborate with the American right-wing on a redevelopment of the space marks a betrayal of this past. Thus, it is a site of national re-bonding, where people can be encouraged to imagine different realities, harness creativity and resilience to corruption. However, one thing is clear: the Generalštab still remains, on Kneza Miloša Street, untouched. Everyday when people walk past new identities are constructed, different ideas of victimhood are projected, and different meanings are assigned to the ruin. It remains an important ontic site for the Serbian state, and the ambiguity of the building makes it somewhat impossible to imagine any future projects. Despite this, it is a crucial example in understanding how victimhood has framed national identity historically and contemporarily. Bibliography Abram, M. (2014). Building the Capital City of the Peoples of Yugoslavia: Representations of Socialist Yugoslavism in.... Politička misao, [online] 51(5), pp.36–57. Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/349537039_Building_the_Capital_City_of_the_People s_of_Yugoslavia_Representations_of_Socialist_Yugoslavism_in_Belgrade [Accessed 2 Feb. 2026]. Assmann, J. (2008). Communicative and Cultural Memory. 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The Disintegration of Yugoslavia. European Journal of Social Theory, 4(1), pp.101–120. doi:https://doi.org/10.1177/13684310122225037. Marinović, M. (2025). The Church as a Political Actor in the Western Balkans. [online] Centre for Civic Education. Available at: https://cgo-cce.org/en/2025/06/22/the-church-as-a-political-actor-in-the-western-balkans/ [Accessed 2 Feb. 2026]. Ortiz, C. and Córdoba, O.G. (2023). Territorial healing: A spatial spiral weaving transformative reparation. Planning Theory, [online] 23(2), pp.110–130. doi:https://doi.org/10.1177/14730952231181129. Vukpalaj, A. (2025). From Memory Politics to Mnemonic Diplomacy: Serbia’s Strategic Use of the 1999 NATO Bombing to Challenge Kosovo’s Statehood before and after Russia’s Full-Scale Invasion of Ukraine. Comparative Southeast European Studies, 73(3), pp.261–290. doi:https://doi.org/10.1515/soeu-2025-0044.
Kosovo and the Dissolution of Yugoslavia: A Delayed Explosion
Author: Janka Júlia Csepregi A review of the rich scholarly literature on the dissolution of Yugoslavia and the wars of the 1990s published over the past few decades shows that the so-called “Kosovo question” often appears as a framing element in interpretations that, rightly so, approach the process of dissolution from a transnational and holistic perspective. Namely, the situation of Kosovo is typically discussed in the introductory sections where different scholars outline the dire situation unfolding from the complex crisis of the 1980s in Yugoslavia and the nationalist mobilization fueled by Milošević, which first escalated in Kosovo. As accounts follow the course of events and the development of armed conflicts and wars in the independent republics, it is not until 1998 that Kosovo returns to the narrative, as the „last in the line of conflicts” to be solved following the dissolution (see e.g. Baker 2015; Sundhaussen 2014). Photo: Unsplash/Xhiliana Nevertheless, the marginalization of the question of Kosovo in the 1990s is not only a phenomenon in scholarly interpretations. In fact, the situation in Kosovo was sidelined and largely neglected for a period in contemporary international discourse concerning developments in Yugoslavia, too. Although the human rights issue in Kosovo was in the center of both domestic and international attention during the economic and political crisis unfolding in the 1980s in Yugoslavia, armed conflict first escalated in the breakaway republics claiming independence, and the question of Kosovo remained marginalized until the late 1990s. Reason for the collapse of Yugoslavia Scholarly explanations of the dissolution of Yugoslavia can be broadly grouped into several strands that emerged from the early 1990s onward (Dragović-Soso 2007). The first body of arguments focused on longue durée causes of ethnic conflict. Be it the essentialist vision of “ancient hatred” among the “Balkan people,” promoted already during the Balkan Wars in the West, the highly contested theory of the clash of civilizations, or approaches of historical geography depicting Yugoslavia as a peripheral space shaped by former multinational empires, these explanations view the multinational and multiconfessional character of Yugoslavia as the main source of therefore unavoidable conflict. Similarly, another group of historians highlights the failure of the ideology of “Yugoslavism” to integrate inherently incompatible identities, most notably those of the two biggest state-building nations, the Serbs and the Croats. Whether attributed to Serbian hegemonism or Croatian and Slovenian separatism, interpretations focusing on the legacy of the first Yugoslav state portray the multinational state as an impossible idea doomed to failure. Shifting the focus from the roots of violence to the process of disintegration, a third body of scholarship examines the evolution of socialist Yugoslavia, with particular attention to the 1974 Constitution and the confederalization of the constitutional system. These institutionalist explanations emphasize how deep economic and political crises contested the socialist legacy and eventually led to state collapse, while leaving unanswered the question of whether political reinvention could have prevented it. More recent and now widespread approaches reject the predetermined nature of the collapse and instead stress the responsibility and agency of political and intellectual elites in promoting tensions and inducing fear, primarily through state controlled media. Without denying the significance of the systemic crisis that delegitimized socialism, scholars argue that it was the active dissemination of nationalist ideologies and hatred by elites that made disintegration inevitable, generating influential debates on elite-led versus grassroots dynamics and the processes of national mobilization. In contrast with these perspectives, scholars have also turned toward international factors, such as the role of international financial institutions or Western recognition policies in the early 1990s, with debates over the timing, extent, and moral value of international intervention continuing to shape both academic interpretations and the legacy of the 1990s wars. Methodological nationalism and transitional perspective In the past few years, the academic scholarship on Yugoslavia’s dissolution has increasingly been accused of essentializing the Yugoslav case and „reading history backwards”. This phenomenon does not only concern the „nationalizing” historiography of post-Yugoslav nation states that tendentially relies on a research agenda aimed at normalizing the successor states „backwards” and projecting its current reality back in history (called methodological nationalism). On the contrary, this methodological bias is also characteristic of international scholarship that until the present day has viewed the country’s dissolution „shaped by its end”, focusing on developments in Socialist Yugoslavia leading to its failure while neglecting evidence that suggests the opposite. In fact, this is also reflected in the general direction of this research, namely in the large number of works that focus on the ethnic nature of the conflict, in contrast to the common Yugoslav topoi that characterized historiography before the breakup (Bieber 2016:1–3). This approach therefore suggests a turn in new research directions such as e.g. a shift from political history to the Yugoslav Lebenswelt or a focus on the ’havenots’ rather than the ’haves’ of Yugoslav society in order to understand the existing social inequalities that could play a role in inidividuals’ response to nationalist mobilization (Archer 2016; Galijaš 2016). By applying a transnational perspective, the essay understands developments in Kosovo as an integral part of the broader process of Yugoslavia’s dissolution and the unfolding armed conflicts, which are treated as neither predetermined nor inevitable. Consequently, in order to avoid the trap of “reading history backwards,” the discussion concentrates on the initial phase of the conflict rather than on its more frequently analyzed escalation. The evolution of the international attitude towards the Kosovo issue Although Kosovo was initially perceived as a fundamental issue in the context of Yugoslavia’s dissolution, after the recognition of the Western republics it was excluded from the peace process and viewed as an internal matter of Serbia by the international community. How can one explain the neglection of the Kosovo issue in the early 1990s? In the following I will argue that the international assessment and handling of the Kosovo issue was overshadowed by the unfolding conflict in the Western republics and was therefore primarily dependent on the intentions concerning Yugoslavia’s survival. Firstly, observing the evolution of the international attitude towards the Kosovo question, it seems that it was only in the foreground of international attention as long as Western powers were insisting on the preservation of Yugoslavia. Early American and European initiatives, including sanctions imposed on the entire territory of the former Yugoslavia (such as the arms embargo), formed part of a broader strategy aimed at preserving Yugoslavia and treating Kosovo as a core issue to be resolved within the framework of the Yugoslav state (Bellamy 2002:18). However, the realisation that Yugoslavia could not be held together eventually led to the recognition of the member republics that declared their independence and therefore worked as a self-fulfilling prophecy, giving international legitimation for the breakup. Consequently, as Kosovo did not gain such recognition, it was no longer treated as a constituent part of Yugoslavia but an internal matter for Serbia, thus losing legal grounds for international engagement and what is more, becoming a victim of sanctions imposed at Serbia (Bellamy 2002:13, 16). In this way, with the abandonment of Yugoslavia's survival, the settlement of the Kosovo issue was also removed from the agenda, which is well symbolized by the fact that Rugova's 1991 letter to Lord Carrington advocating Kosovo's independence remained completely unanswered (Bellamy 2002:26). Secondly, when it comes to the handling of the Kosovo issue, namely the marginalization and delayed involvement in the resolution of the situation of Kosovo Albanians, was significantly influenced by the development of conflicts in Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina. This can be observed at different stages of the process of Yugoslavia’s dissolution. First of all, this interrelation already played a role in the non-recognition of Kosovo. Delayed escalation of the conflict Even though until 1989 it was a constituent part of the SFRY with legally defined borders layed down in the constitution, Kosovo did not gain international recognition together with other republics, one of the main reason of which was the Western powers’ fear of creating a precedent and thus legitimizing the claims of Serbs in Croatia and BiH (Bellamy 2002:24–26). However, this was not the only occasion when the issue in Kosovo was neglected in favor of the resolution of other, seemingly larger-scale conflicts. After a short period of limited international engagement in Kosovo characterised by the presence of the CSCE Mission of Long Duration and the ICFY, in their efforts to win Milosević over to Bosnia's cause, the international powers withdrew even this low level of their presence from Kosovo, thereby handing it over to Serbian autocracy (Bellamy 2002:65). Although peace in Bosnia was ultimately achieved and appears to have been worth the cost, it remains uncertain whether “sacrificing” Kosovo—and thereby postponing its resolution on the international agenda—ultimately contributed to the strengthening of the radical wing of the Albanian movement and to the delayed escalation of the conflict. In the context of the Kosovo conflict, both academic literature and public discourse often mention that a key factor in the involvement of international forces on such a scale (NATO airstrike) was the ’Bosnia syndrome’, i.e. the ‘never again’ conviction following the traumatic experience of the Bosnian war (Bellamy 2002:69). However, as can be seen from the above, even in the early stages of the conflict, the international handling of the Kosovo issue depended largely on events in other member states, rather than on internal political power relations and the extent of Serbian political repression. As we shall see below, this considerably limited the scope of the Albanian movement and greatly influenced the form and dynamics of the resistance. The dynamics of the resistance in Kosovo The multifaceted crisis that unfolded in Yugoslavia following Tito's death first erupted in Kosovo, where the malfunctions of the socio-economic system had already led to protests as early as in 1981. Although the protests can be interpreted as manifestations of the particularly acute consequences of economic and demographic transformation in Kosovo – then the poorest and most underdeveloped region in Yugoslavia –, by this time the unequal political and economic representation of ethnic groups had led to growing tensions and thus the 1981 riots were framed around the discourse of nationality policy and constitutional reform (Pula 2004:801–803). This trend continued to strengthen throughout the 1980s, so that by the 1989 two completely separate and isolated political blocs had emerged in Kosovo, divided along ethnic lines at both the institutional and social levels: the Serbian nationalizing regime, which mobilized against the 'Albanization' of Kosovo, and the Albanian national secessionist movement organizing against Serbian repression (Pula 2004:807). In the wake of the dissolution of the federal state, despite the particularly dire political and economic situation of Kosovo, Kosovo Albanians opted for non-violent resistance and started to build a parallel state rather than opening a new front against Serbia following the example of the Western republics. Even though the claim to independence was articulated as early as in 1991, it was only after the wars in BiH and Croatia ended that the UÇK and the support for armed resistance gained momentum in Kosovo, leading to armed conflict and the contested NATO intervention in 1998–1999. The first half of the 1990s in Kosovo was thus marked by the formation of a grassroots nonviolent resistance movement and the emergence of a parallel system, which received less attention in academic literature in light of the bloodshed that followed. It is assumed that both the social and institutional frame of the conflict and the emerging Albanian resistance can be rooted in the institutional structures and political identities inherited from the Yugoslav system (Pula 2004:797–798, 818). The segregated political and social frameworks that characterized the relation between Albanians and Serbs in Kosovo throughout the 1990s were results of the institutionalization of political repression organized by the state, excluding Albanians from the decision-making process and thereby forcing them to develop parallel structures. In addition, the educational and cultural institutions together with the public service system that was established and coordinated by the Democratic League of Kosovo (LDK) parallel to the one provided by the state were all in a sense, sucessors of the earlier existing autonomy-era institutions being resilient to political repression. Nevertheless, it is clear that the relative success of the Albanian movement was largely thanks to the political opportunities created by the international environment, primarily through the liberalization following the collapse of state socialist systems in Eastern Europe. Accordingly, similarly to the political transformation in Eastern bloc countries, the dynamics and chances of political movements were tied to international support, regardless of internal potential and the extent of popular support. It seems therefore that it was partly the lack of international recognition that led to the failure of non-violent resistance. In the following I argue that the marginalization of the Kosovo question by the international community limited the chances of a peaceful resolution and in the long run contributed to violent escalation. Parallel state As I argued above, the international recognition of the Western republics led to the marginalization of the Kosovo issue in the international discourse, treated as an internal matter of the Serbian republic. However, in the long term, the recognition of the newly independent republics and Kosovo's marginalization actually strengthened the separatist aspirations of the Kosovo Albanians rather than consolidating them. Even though the Albanian delegates of the provincial assembly in Kosovo already proclamied their claim for sovereignty in July 1990, this was not yet a shared initiative with the leading organization of the Albanian movement (LDK) at the time. It was only later and due to the growing political opression by the Serb state that the formal institutions in Kosovo and the Albanian movement joined forces and set the common goal of independence. In fact, the main demand of the Albanian movement in Kosovo even as late as May 1991 was only the republician status and the reversal of Serbia’s constitutional reforms. Yet by the summer of 1991, with the breakup of Yugoslavia becoming a realistic scenario, the LDK made the independence of Kosovo as its main political objective, which gained popular legitimation by the referendum held in September 1991 (Pula 2004:806). The Kosovar Albanians’ claim for self-determination was then engraved in the Kaçanik constitution amended in October 1991 by the regional Assembly, laying down the groundwork for the legitimate claim of independence and the basis of the parallel state of the 1990s. This process was further escalated and in a sense concluded with the EC and later US recognition of the independent republics, setting off an irreversible domino effect whereby the Albanian movement, fearing even greater Serbian oppression without the constitutional framework of Yugoslavia and counting on Western intervention, could no longer back down from its demand for independence (Pula 2004:816). Recognising of Kosovo Although the demand for independence was no longer challenged, the non-violent movement organized under Rugova's leadership in the 1990s nevertheless prevented violent escalation and maintained the possibility of a peaceful resolution, a chance that was dismissed by the international community. In other words, the lack of international (both political and economic) support for the parallel state and the missed opportunity to negotiate with Rugova eventually undermined the LDK’s legitimacy and reduced the popularity of its strategy of nonviolent resistance, contributing to the rise of the UÇK. On one hand, the sanctions imposed on Kosovo through Serbia, along with Kosovo’s exclusion from the negotiations, further intensified tensions between local Serbian and Albanian communities amid the ongoing economic and political crisis (Bellamy 2002:24–26). Furthermore, the region's economic decline further increased dissatisfaction, thereby boosting support for more radical forces. On the other hand, it seems that the international community missed a core opportunity for a peaceful settlement by failing to use their diplomatic leverage to negotiate and reach an agreement with the more consolidated wing of the Albanian movement led by Rugova. The nonviolent resistance led by the LDK operated on the basis of the principle of peaceful coexistence, which, in addition to monitoring and documenting cases of human rights violations, paid particular attention to preventing and sanctioning radical and violent forms of Albanian resistance, avoiding confrontations with the Serbian police. Even though the early 1990s were marked by public demonstrations, strikes, and guerrilla attacks in Kosovo, by 1992 the parallel state had taken institutional shape and gained broad popular support, marginalizing the position of clandestine groups and therefore the public support for armed resistance. In any case, the earlier disbandment of Kosovo’s Territorial Defense force and the removal of ethnic Albanians from the police units have heavily hampered the organization of a full-blown armed resistance, which, even more so in the absence of Rugova's political will to establish a defense force, remained off the agenda. Although Rugova's system was subject to criticism both within the LDK and among its opponents, e.g. within the student movement, partly learning from the political culture of peaceful transitions in Central Eastern Europe and partly in recognition of the given circumstances, the system of non-violent resistance enjoyed widespread support and was reinforced by the 1992 elections, completing the institutional framework of the parallel state (Pula 2004:808–812, 816–817; Hetemi 2020:212–214.) Although Rugova’s parallel system was firmly institutionalised and rooted in broad popular support, its credibility was gradually eroded by the absence of progress concerning Kosovo’s independent status and its international recognition, especially in light of the peace negotiations in Dayton. The international society missed the opportunity to engage with or include Rugova in diplomatic processes, which weakened the appeal of his nonviolent strategy among Kosovo Albanians and had led to his growing political marginalisation after 1995. This sustained non engagement, coupled with the implicit acceptance of Serbia’s claim over Kosovo, created space for more radical actors such as the UÇK to gain popular support after Dayton (Bellamy 2002:65–66; Sundhaussen 2014:368–369). Consequently, the emergence of armed resistance was not simply the result of internal dynamics but was closely linked to international policies reshaping the political landscape in Kosovo. Missed opportunity Even though it is clear that the escalation of conflict in Kosovo in 1998–1999 was not solely determined by international factors, in my essay I attempted to show how the prospects for a peaceful resolution were profoundly altered by the broader context of Yugoslavia’s dissolution and the selective recognition policies of the early 1990s. The international community’s marginalization of the Kosovo issue—its delayed engagement and failure to negotiate with the more consolidated and nonviolent wing of the Albanian movement led by Rugova—represents a critical missed opportunity to prevent escalation on the diplomatic level. By turning away from Kosovo, international powers did not resolve the conflict but merely postponed it, reducing the likelihood of a peaceful resolution and indirectly contributing to the later rise of armed resistance. As shown, the developments in Kosovo were deeply intertwined with both the dynamics of the Yugoslav wars in Croatia and Bosnia and the international handling of those crises and the Kosovo issue was subordinated to wider regional calculations rather than addressed on its own terms. Just as the “Bosnia syndrome” prompted NATO intervention during the escalation in Kosovo, the hope of securing peace in Dayton had earlier shaped the international approach to the Kosovo issue, and it was precisely this, i.e. Kosovo’s exclusion from the peace negotiations that undermined Rugova’s legitimacy and contributed to the radicalization of the Albanian movement. This interdependence underscores the necessity of analyzing the dissolution of Yugoslavia and the related conflicts as a single, interrelated process. Literature Archer, Rory. “Social Inequalities and the Study of Yugoslavia’s Dissolution.” In Debating theEnd of Yugoslavia, edited by Florian Bieber, Armina Galijaš, and Rory Archer, 135–151.Oxton/New York: Routledge, 2016.Baker, Catherine. The Yugoslav Wars of the 1990s. London: Macmillan Education UK, 2015.Bellamy, Alex J. “Kosovo and the Dissolution of Yugoslavia.” In Kosovo and InternationalSociety, edited by Alex J. Bellamy, 16–36. London: Palgrave Macmillan UK, 2002.Bieber, Florian. “Introduction.” In Debating the End of Yugoslavia, edited by Florian Bieber,Armina Galijaš, and Rory Archer, 1–7. Oxton/New York: Routledge, 2016.Dragović-Soso, Jasna. "Why did Yugoslavia disintegrate? An overview of contendingexplanations." In State collapse in South-Eastern Europe: New perspectives on Yugoslavia’sdisintegration, edited by Cohen, Lenard J., and Jasna Dragović-Soso, 1–40. West Lafayette,Indiana: Purdue University Press, 2007.Galijaš, Armina. “What Do We Know about the Lebenswelt of Yugoslavs?” In Debating theEnd of Yugoslavia, edited by Florian Bieber, Armina Galijaš, and Rory Archer, 155–174.Oxton/New York: Routledge, 2016.Hetemi, Atdhe. Student Movements for the Republic of Kosovo: 1968, 1981 and 1997. PalgraveStudies in the History of Social Movements. Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2020.Pula, Besnik. “The Emergence of the Kosovo ‘Parallel State,’ 1988–1992.” NationalitiesPapers 32, no. 4 (2004): 797–826.Sundhaussen, Holm. Jugoslawien und seine Nachfolgestaaten 1943–2011: eine ungewöhnlicheGeschichte des Gewöhnlichen. Wien: Böhlau Verlag, 2014.
Healing the Rupture: An Organic Critique of Regional Reintegration in the Post-Yugoslav Space
Author: Iva Kojić The collapse of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia in the 1990s was far more than a local tragedy; it tore apart an intricately linked society and economy overnight. As new borders rose and political agreements hardened, ordinary people were left stranded within fragile new economies, unable to compete with the wider world. For the truck driver waiting endless hours at the Batrovci border, or the student from Bitola whose diploma is worthless in Belgrade, the breakup replaced old certainties with lost futures. For more than two decades, influential academic and policy voices have described reintegration as a set of assignments dictated by the EU’s Berlin Process, treating the Western Balkans as passive recipients and ignoring the region’s powerful, internal need for a homegrown recovery. Illustration photo. Retrieved from Pexels (www.pexels.com) The Berlin Process offers a clear roadmap, while the Open Balkan Initiative appears, at least on paper, to be a more nimble, practical answer to real-life needs. Of course, both are complicated by local politicians' ambitions. In the end, the best way forward is to blend the strengths of both: keep the high standards of the Berlin Process, but add the local ownership and flexibility of Open Balkan, so that these projects actually make a difference for regular people living under their shadow Theoretical Framework and the Live Reality At the heart of the argument for regional integration lies David Mitrany’s functionalist theory. Mitrany posited that technical and social needs (energy distribution, transport logistics, public health) naturally ignore political borders and force cooperation out of sheer necessity (Alexandrescu, 2007, 29) . In the post-Yugoslav context, this theory suggests that the shared power grids, railways, and supply chains left behind by the common state act as a silent pull, drawing the successor states back into a web of international activities. But the real work of regionalism cannot just be explained by academic theories. Mitrany's ideas help set the stage, but when you look at what is actually happening in the Balkans, things are much messier. While functionalism suggests cooperation emerges from practical necessity, critics argue that it overlooks complex socio-political realities and power dynamics. The Open Balkan initiative, for example, is not just a response to practical needs. It is also shaped by the ambitions of political leaders. Many of these same leaders have, at home, let the rule of law slide and often put showmanship ahead of actually solving problems. Similarly, other integration theories, such as neofunctionalism or intergovernmentalism, might offer insights into how political actors and state interests play crucial roles in integration efforts. Thus, although theories hold that working together on practical issues should lead to political peace, in reality, these efforts are often hijacked for political gain. There is a real grassroots desire for reintegration, but the tools used to get there are often twisted to serve political survival. To truly judge these efforts, we must examine how political leaders use (and sometimes misuse) these theories, sometimes helping people, sometimes just helping themselves. Academic models are helpful, but right now, it is the politicians at the wheel, steering through a landscape full of old tensions and personal power plays. The Berlin Process: The Outsourced Assignment Launched in 2014, the Berlin Process was intended to revitalize regional cooperation through high-level summits and the creation of a Common Regional Market. Its greatest strength and its most significant contribution to the lives of regular people is its inclusivity. It involves all six regional partners, ensuring regional integration remains aligned with the EU's strict standards and legal principles. This inclusivity is a vital democratic safeguard, as it prevents the “island” effect where certain states are left behind due to political exclusion. In practical terms, the Berlin Process has produced tangible, humanized successes that improve daily life, such as the “Roam Like at Home” agreement, which has significantly lowered communication costs for millions of people traveling for work or family across the divided region. By eliminating roaming charges, the process has moved the region one step closer to the standards of the EU’s internal market (Mitrovic 2025, 10). However, a deeper critique reveals that the Berlin Process often feels like an outsourced project managed by a distant bureaucracy. For the regular citizen, its results are often trapped in administrative stagnation or slowed by complex ratification processes across six different parliaments. As Kamberi (2021, 60) notes, the prospect of the EU joining now seems “too distant and uncertain”, leading to a loss of faith in reforms that feel like a never-ending series of homework assignments given by Brussels. The Open Balkan Initiative: Agility, Ego, and the Practical Reality In contrast, the Open Balkan initiative is a locally led project born of a perceived revolt against the status quo. Its greatest strength is its agility. By focusing on low-hanging fruit, it has achieved practical successes where the Berlin Process has historically struggled (Xhoxhaj 2024, 7). The 2024 Labor Market Access Agreement is the primary example of this practical work: it allows a citizen of North Macedonia to work in Serbia or Albania without the humiliating and expensive ordeal of obtaining a work permit (Mitrovic 2025, 8). This is a direct response to the brain drain crisis hollowing out the region. However, the Open Balkan initiative is also flawed, mainly because it excludes Kosovo, Montenegro, and Bosnia and Herzegovina, which risks further splitting the region. And, just like with other regional efforts, we cannot remain blind to the politicians in charge. Citizens worry that this initiative is a front, giving political leaders a bigger stage and more power, even as the rule of law back home deteriorates. Some critics even warn that it could end up putting Serbia at the forefront, mainly benefiting big companies and politicians instead of everyday people trying to get by. However, proponents of Open Balkan argue that the initiative prioritizes regional economic collaboration, aiming to bring tangible benefits quickly to those who need it the most. They assert that by simplifying labor mobility and reducing trade barriers, the initiative addresses real economic needs and can set a precedent for broader regional inclusion in the future. Bridging the Gap through Practical Reintegration The positive aspects inherent in both the Berlin Process and the Open Balkan initiative must be synthesized to move beyond political spectacle and toward a genuine improvement in the lives of regular people. Within the Berlin Process, the region must preserve the high standards of the EU acquis and ensure total regional inclusivity within the WB6. In the Open Balkan, the synthesis must foster a sense of regional ownership. The bridge between these two models lies in the Staged Accession model. This framework suggests the EU should stop treating the Balkans as a binary “in or out” choice and instead offer early, functional access to the Single Market as a reward for specific regional cooperation successes (Mitrovic 2025, 19). For the citizen, a synthesis of these models would move from grand declaration to practical work. For example, moving beyond simple roaming agreements to a unified regional energy grid and digital market might allow Balkan tech startups to scale regionally before competing globally, thereby fulfilling the need for a shared economic space that remains physically dependent on common infrastructure. Another example could be expanding the labor mobility protocols of the Open Balkan to the entire WB6 within the legitimate framework of the Berlin Process. This would ensure that a nurse from Sarajevo or a programmer from Pristina can move as easily as their counterparts in the Trio, while still benefiting from the legal protections and safety standards guaranteed by EU alignment. This is where the real work happens. It is not found in high-level summits but in regional harmonization that makes the border invisible to the person crossing it. By utilizing the political speed of the Open Balkan to fulfill the institutional promises of the Berlin Process, the region might finally begin to heal in a way that serves the people. Moving Beyond the Homework Assignment The reintegration of the post-Yugoslav space is a structural necessity- a response to the unsustainable fragmentations of the 1990s. While academic theories provide a useful map, they cannot account for the practical difficulty of navigating the political egos and catastrophic track records of regional elites who often use these platforms for domestic promotion. The disintegration of Yugoslavia created a rupture that cannot be healed by an outsourced project alone. It requires a reintegration that is both technically sound and locally owned. Ultimately, the promise of regional stability is in moving beyond the political theater of leaders and toward genuine technical cooperation that serves the citizens. Regionalism is not a homework assignment for Brussels. Rather, it is a survival strategy for the people of the Balkans. The promise of either model is hollow if it does not address the ten-hour wait at the border or the unrecognized diploma. By reclaiming regional ownership and synthesizing the practical successes of both models, the successor states can finally make the borders breathable again. Reintegration should not be a decision for politicians. Instead, it is a mandate dictated by geography and the shared needs of a population that refuses to be defined solely by its borders. Bibliography Alexandrescu, Mihai. 2007. “David Mitrany: From Federalism to Functionalism.” Transylvanian Review 16 (1): 19-33. Popoviciu, Adrian-Claudiu. 2010. “David Mitrany and Functionalism: The Beginnings of Functionalism”. Revista Romana de Geografie Politica 12, (1): 162-172 Jelisavac Trosic, Sanja, and Mitko Arnaudov. 2023. “What are the Realistic Capabilities of the Berlin Process and the Open Balkan Initiative?” Review of International Affairs 74 (1187): 59-85. Kamberi, Donika. 2021. “Open Balkan vs. Berlin Process- Same, Same but Different” Freedom: Journal for Peacebuilding and Transcultural Communication 2 (3/4): 60-71. Jelisavac Trošić, Sanja, and Mitko Arnaudov. "Open Balkans - Between Economic Opportunities and Political Reality." (2023). Mitrovic, Sava. 2025. Regional Cooperation Initiatives in the Western Balkans: Improving Countries’ Preparedness for Staged Accession to the European Union. Belgrade: European Policy Centre (CEP). Xhoxhaj, Veton. 2024. “Assessing Western Balkans Regional Integration Efforts: A Comparative Study of the Berlin Process and the Open Balkan Initiative". Multidisciplinary Science Journal 7: 2025248. Mitrany, David. 1975. The Functional Theory of Politics. London: Martin Robertson for the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Religious education as a showcase of contemporary pedagogicalchallenges: a case study and proposals for changing teaching practice
Author: Danica Janković This paper will analyse the religious teaching in Serbian high schools as a case study through which broader problems of contemporary teaching are identified such as the weak interactivity and low motivation (Institute for Educational Research 2023). These issues reflect a wider pattern in modern education where teaching often remains teacher-centered and students are passive participants in their own learning process.The purpose is to show the role of the teacher as a guide who leads students to independent thought through questioning and coming to their own conclusions which would be connected to the class and the material they were supposed to cover. Photo: Unsplash/Vidar Nordli-Mathisen Through literature analysis, comparison, and a case study of selected religious education lessons in a Serbian high school, the paper demonstrates how a teacher can recreate lessons not by providing direct answers, but by guiding students to discover concepts themselves. This approach aligns with broader educational goals such as autonomy, critical thinking, and value-based learning, making it applicable beyond religious education and relevant across various subjects. During the period between 2021-2022 the online classes were carried out in two different high schools in Niš, Serbia, by the professor Ivica Živković during the years 2021-2022 which he conducted using the Socratic Majeutic method. This is the case study this paper will be focusing on. This paper argues that the Socratic (maieutic) method -teaching through guided questioning- offers one of the most effective pedagogical approaches for engaging students in reflective, meaningful learning. For example, during the period between 2021-2022 the Religious education classes were carried out online in two different high schools in Niš, Serbia, by the professor Ivica Živković which he conducted using the Socratic Majeutic method. Student Milica Marković responded to the professor in the google classroom, and at the end of the school year, a book was published in the form of dialogue between them that was created during their classes. Using this example I demonstrate how this method addresses key problems in contemporary teaching: lack of student engagement, insufficient critical thinking, and limited relevance of content. In many educational systems, including the Serbian one, teaching remains largely teacher-centered, emphasizing memorization and passive reception of knowledge. This creates an unconscious barrier between teachers and students, further discouraging active participation and curiosity. Religious education, as a relatively new yet controversial subject, reflects these broader pedagogical issues such as lessons often relying on narration rather than exploration. Within this context, reintroducing the Socratic approach represents an opportunity to reimagine the teacher’s role as a facilitator of thought. Improving the quality of religious education is not only pedagogically important but also socially significant. When students are taught to reflect and understand religion critically, they are less likely to adopt simplified or politicized interpretations of faith. Strengthening teaching methods in this subject contributes to fostering tolerance, empathy, and intercultural understanding. Main arguments: Religious education should be conducted using the Socratic method and similar interactive approaches applied by Professor Živković. ● This approach replaces passive memorization with dialogue and guided questioning, allowing students to actively construct their understanding instead of only repeating given information. ● Such teaching practices positively influence students by increasing their engagement, motivation, and participation. ● When lessons are structured around questions rather than lectures, students become co-creators of knowledge, which strengthens their critical thinking and sense of autonomy in learning. ● This pedagogical model also benefits the broader community by promoting a more informed and reflective understanding of religion. By fostering dialogue and empathy, it helps prevent the political misuse of religious ideas for spreading intolerance or hatred, encouraging instead the authentic ethical and humanistic values of faith. The teacher as a questioner – recreating knowledge rather than transmitting it Exploration of how questions can replace explanations, encouraging students to reconstruct meaning through guided inquiry (examples of how this could work within religious topics). How questioning leads to reflection and critical engagement – Analysis of the shift from rote learning to reflective thinking; examples of how guided dialogue fosters personal connection and moral reasoning. Model proposal: Applying the Socratic method across subjects – Practical implications: how a questioning-based approach could improve not only religious education but teaching practices in general; steps for implementation and teacher training. By examining religious education through the lens of the Socratic method, this paper shows that meaningful teaching depends not on the amount of information transmitted, but on the teacher’s ability to guide students toward independent thought. When applied to religious education, this approach transforms the classroom into a space of dialogue and critical reflection, helping students actively engage with ideas rather than passively accept them. Such methods not only improve student motivation and understanding but also strengthen the broader social role of education—encouraging tolerance, empathy, and resistance to the political misuse of religion. The teacher who questions rather than instructs does not merely convey knowledge, but cultivates reflective individuals capable of forming their own moral and intellectual judgments, which makes this model valuable far beyond the subject of religious education itself. Students just repeat the information Contemporary education across many countries faces problems that significantly complicate the learning process. Those problems are often not taken into account as they are highly normalised in today's teaching practices. Amongst the most common problems that appear in the classroom are the low motivation of the students, limited interactivity and a highly teacher-centered environment where the students are passive participants. These patterns are documented in recent pedagogical research, including work conducted in Serbia, where the Institute for Educational Research (2023) describes that students frequently experience lessons as passive and disconnected from their own reasoning processes. Instead of being encouraged to think, question, and explore ideas, students often remain silent observers while teachers hand over pre packaged information. Paulo Freire (1970) describes this approach as a “banking model” of education in which knowledge is treated as a deposit made by the teacher and given to the students, rather than as something that is co-constructed through dialogue and critical inquiry. Against this backdrop, this paper explores the potential of the Socratic maieutic method as an alternative pedagogical model for education. Rather than relying on repetition and the transmission of pre defined information, the Socratic method gives an emphasis to questioning, dialogue, and the guided development of ideas, encouraging students to make their own understanding through critical inquiry. This approach positions the teacher as a facilitator of learning, rather than a transmitter of knowledge (Plato, trans. 1997; Vlastos, 1991). The paper investigates this method through a case study of religious education classes conducted online by Professor Ivica Živković in two high schools in Niš, Serbia, during the 2021–2022 school year. These classes conducted during the COVID-19 pandemic, resulted in a year-long written dialogue between the teacher and student Milica Marković, later published as the book A to samo Bog zna (2022). This case presents an important example of a student-driven learning in a Serbian high school. New (old) practices in education In recent years, educational systems in many countries, especially in the European Union and the United States have been going through notable reforms and transformations as a reaction to technological, social, and economic pressures and changes. For example, the OECD’s Trends Shaping Education 2025 report brings out how global forces such as digitalisation, societal change and the COVID-19 pandemic are reshaping policies and practices in education across OECD member countries, driving changes in how learning, teaching, and assessment are conceived and delivered (OECD, 2025). At the same time, a great deal of national reforms in the U.S. have focused on expanded learning time, curriculum redesign and adaptation to emerging technologies as part of broader efforts to improve educational outcomes and equity (e.g., expanded learning initiatives in the U.S.). Yet still so many classrooms carry on in keeping traditional models of teaching and learning. Teacher centred pedagogy traditionally prioritises the transmission of knowledge over the development of skills, values, and independent reasoning. John Dewey’s theory of education critiques such approaches, arguing that learning turns out most effectively through active participation, experience, and reflective thinking, instead of passive reception of information (Dewey, 1938). Similarly, critical pedagogy emphasises that education should foster learners’ capacity for critical reasoning and meaningful engagement with knowledge, rather than positioning students as passive recipients (Freire, 1970). From this theoretical perspective, teacher centred instruction is not adequate for contemporary students who require active engagement in order to understand complex concepts and apply knowledge to real life contexts A 2023 study by the Institute for Educational Research highlights that Serbian high school students often describe classes as monotonous and lacking meaningful interaction. When lessons rely heavily on memorization, students struggle to understand the material and its significance. As a consequence students during the classes exhibit low motivation, limited curiosity, and minimal participation. Majeutics Socratic method emphasizes a shift from the teacher as a transmitter of knowledge to the teacher as a facilitator.The facilitators role is to guide students to analyse, reconstruct knowledge and come to the answers on their own rather than providing them. This encourages learners to form arguments, draw conclusions and actually connect to the material.(Plato, trans. 1997; Vlastos, 1991). In the context of religious education, facilitation is especially crucial, as teaching about religion requires sensitivity to students' diverse beliefs and experiences and emphasises dialogue, interpretation, and reflective understanding, rather than the transmission of fixed doctrinal knowledge (Jackson, 2004). A facilitator-oriented approach can help learners explore questions of meaning, morality, and identity. The Socratic maieutic method emphasizes drawing out knowledge through questions. As Wilberding (2019) explains, the method involves strategic questioning that leads students to uncover ideas themselves rather than passively receiving them. Maieutics (from the Greek word for “midwifery”) suggests that the teacher assists students in “giving birth” to their own understanding. Key characteristics of the Socratic method include: ● open-ended questions, ● dialogical interaction, ● reflection with self-correction, ● the development of personal meaning. Religious education, when taught through memorization risks reducing theological and ethical concepts to surface-level information. The Socratic method offers an alternative by encouraging students to question, interpret, and reflect, it supports: ●independent moral reasoning, ● empathy and tolerance, ● deeper understanding of religious texts, ● critical examination of personal and societal beliefs. Critical thinking Given the growing concerns regarding the politicisation of religion in contemporary societies, facilitative and dialogical pedagogical models are not only academically beneficial but also socially significant. Scholars argue that when religious education is reduced to the transmission of fixed or ideologically framed interpretations, it can reinforce polarisation and limit students’ capacity for critical reflection (Casanova, 2011). In contrast, dialogical approaches to religious education such as facilitation established on questioning and interpretation, promote critical engagement, tolerance, and the ability to tell apart personal belief from political manipulation of religion (Jackson, 2004; UNESCO, 2019). From this perspective, such pedagogical models contribute to the development of reflective and socially responsible citizens capable of engaging with religious diversity in pluralistic societies. The findings are compared to typical teacher-centered practices in Serbian religious education to highlight key differences and pedagogical implications. Empirical research on attitudes toward religious instruction in Serbia indicates that the existing confessional model, which tends to prioritise content transmission, has limitations in addressing religious diversity and meaningful engagement with material, pointing to pedagogical gaps in current practice (Šuvaković et al., 2023). Furthermore, comparative research in religious education literature identifies a clear distinction between traditional teacher-centred/content-centred approaches and more constructivist, student-centred models that actively involve learners in meaning-making processes (Religious Education in Transition, 2024). These differences underscore how teacher-centred practices may limit opportunities for critical thinking and deeper understanding, in contrast to approaches that emphasise learner engagement and dialogue The online lessons were fundamentally dialogical. Professor Živković rarely provided direct explanations; instead, he formed and asked a series of interconnected questions designed to guide the student toward discovering the underlying concepts. Responses were written, allowing time for reflection. Each question built upon the previous one, creating a developmental sequence that led the student toward deeper understanding. The Socratic method in these lessons relied on several types of questions: ● Descriptive questions (“What do you think this parable suggests?”) ● Analytical questions (“Why do you believe this interpretation makes sense?”) ● Reflective questions (“How does this relate to your own experience or values?”) Rather than correcting the student the teacher asked further questions that guided her toward answers. Even when her thoughts on the subject didn't quite meet his beliefs he didn't imply she was wrong but rather accepted her understanding and offered his own, making a safe environment for the student to come to the conclusion on her own. The dialogue demonstrates a high level of engagement. The student’s responses grew more complex over time, also increased her motivation and comfort with reflective reasoning. The written format also encouraged clarity, structure, and introspection and gave her the time to think through her answer, highlighting how questioning can stimulate deep learning even in an online environment. The case study directly addresses the problems outlined in the introduction. Unlike traditional classes where students are passive recipients of transmitted knowledge, critical and progressive educational theories argue that such passivity limits meaningful learning and critical engagement (Freire, 1970; Dewey, 1938). The Socratic method transforms them into active participants. The method appeals to curiosity rather than external pressure and so the engagement increases. The student is not merely listening but thinking, constructing, articulating, and defending ideas. A questioning-centered approach benefits subjects such as philosophy, sociology, literature, history, and even science. Any discipline that requires reasoning can be enriched by dialogical and reflective learning, which encourages learners to engage actively with ideas rather than receive them passively. Educational theorists argue that dialogic teaching promotes deep understanding, critical thinking, and the ability to articulate and justify one’s own views (Alexander, 2008; Mercer, 2000). One of the most significant social implications of this method is its contribution to social cohesion and democratic citizenship. Research suggests that when students are taught to think critically about religion and other contested topics, they are less likely to accept oversimplified or politicised narratives and more likely to develop nuanced, empathetic, and informed perspectives (UNESCO, 2015; Osler & Starkey, 2005). In multicultural societies, dialogical learning has been linked to the strengthening of democratic values, reduction of prejudice, and increased intercultural understanding, as students learn to respect difference, engage in reasoned dialogue, and consider diverse viewpoints (Banks, 2008; UNESCO, 2015). Implementation To implement a dialogical and facilitative pedagogical model there are some conditions that must be met, as suggested by educational theory and research. Teachers' classes that are focused on questioning and dialogical techniques are essential, since the efficiency of the Socratic and dialogical approach depends mostly on teachers’ ability to guide discussion rather than transmit information. Studies on dialogic teaching emphasise that teachers must be explicitly trained to use questioning strategies that promote reasoning and reflection (Alexander, 2008; Mercer, 2000). Curriculum adjustment is necessary in order to create space for dialogue and inquiry instead of pure memorisation. Dewey (1938) argues that meaningful learning requires time for reflection and interaction with ideas, which cannot occur in inflexible, content-heavy curricula focused solely on fact based reproduction. Assessment practices must be reformed to value reflection and critical thinking rather than simple reproduction of information. Research in classroom assessment demonstrates that learning is enhanced when evaluation focuses on students’ reasoning processes, self-reflection, and understanding rather than on memorisation alone (Black & Wiliam, 1998). This paper has demonstrated that the Socratic maieutic method offers a powerful and necessary response to the pedagogical challenges currently present in Serbian high schools. Through a detailed analysis of a real classroom example it demonstrates that questioning centered teaching crucially improves student engagement, enhances critical thinking, and deepens the internalization of religious and ethical concepts. In conclusion, the findings of this paper indicate that religious education due to its ethical and existential nature, is better understood if it uses dialogical and facilitative pedagogical approaches. The analysis demonstrates that when students are encouraged to think critically rather than memorise content, they are more likely to develop mature perspectives on religion. These findings suggest that such educational practices extend beyond academic outcomes and provide to broader societal goals such as the development of a more reflective and cohesive community. Furthermore, this study concludes that the teacher who guides inquiry rather than deliver pre determined answers strengthens both the deeper academic understanding but also the development of independent and critically minded students. From this perspective, pedagogical transformation emerges as essential for education systems devoted to preparing students for complex moral decision making, democratic participation, and responsible engagement in pluralistic societies. Bibliography Wilberding, Erick. Socratic Methods in the Classroom: Encouraging Critical Thinking and Problem Solving Through Dialogue. New York: Routledge, 2019. Taylor & Francis+1 Ivica Živković, Milica Marković,“A to samo Bog zna” Serbia, Niš 2022. Lalić-Vučetić, Nataša, Biljana Bodroški Spariosu, and Zvonimir Komar, editors. Motivation in Education: Challenges and Different Perspectives in Research. Institute for Educational Research, Belgrade, Serbia; Institute of Instructional and School Development, Alpen-Adria University of Klagenfurt, Austria; Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences, University of Zagreb, Croatia, 2023. Koplston, Frederick Charles. History of PhylosophyI: Grecee and Belgrade. Belgrade: BIGZ, 1988 Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum.
Textbooks of Power: Who Gets to Write the Nation?
Članak možeš pročitati na srpskom jeziku ovde. What happens when the state decides what history should look like? And what kind of future does that produce? Illustration photo. Retrieved from Pexels (www.pexels.com) In recent months, debates around new textbook policies have once again opened an old and uncomfortable question: who controls knowledge, and with what purpose? While presented as administrative or educational reforms, these policies are rarely neutral. They often signal something deeper: an attempt to reshape collective memory and identity, and ultimately, the political imagination of a society. At first glance, centralized control over textbooks might seem like a matter of efficiency or quality assurance. Governments argue that a unified narrative ensures coherence in education systems. But history teaches us to be cautious. When states monopolize the production of knowledge, education stops being a space for critical thinking and becomes a tool for ideological reproduction. And this is not a new phenomenon. What Does History Teach Us? Throughout the 20th century, authoritarian and nationalist regimes have repeatedly turned to education as a means of consolidating power. In Nazi Germany, textbooks were systematically rewritten to promote racial ideology and justify expansionist politics. Similarly, in the Soviet Union, historical narratives were continuously revised to align with the ruling party’s shifting political line, often erasing inconvenient truths and individuals from public memory. In both cases, education was not about learning, it was about obedience. Closer to our own time, we see similar patterns emerging in parts of Europe. One of the most relevant contemporary examples is Hungary. Over the past decade, the Hungarian government has introduced increasingly centralized control over educational content, including the nationalization of textbook publishing. New curricula have emphasized nationalist interpretations of history, reduced space for critical perspectives, and promoted a homogeneous vision of identity. The consequences are not abstract. Researchers, educators, and civil society organizations have pointed out that these changes contribute to the normalization of exclusionary narratives. Historical complexity is flattened. Minority perspectives are marginalized or erased. And perhaps most concerningly, young people are socialized into seeing the world through a lens of “us versus them.” Education, in this context, becomes a subtle but powerful vehicle for producing distrust, resentment, and even hostility toward others. Why the Debate on Textbooks Is Never Just About Textbooks? In societies with fragile democratic institutions, control over education can easily become control over thought. When only one version of history is allowed, critical engagement is replaced by passive acceptance. Students are not encouraged to ask questions, they are taught what to think. And once that happens, the very foundation of democratic culture begins to erode. The Western Balkans, with its complex histories and unresolved tensions, is particularly vulnerable to such dynamics. We know from experience how competing national narratives can fuel division and conflict. Precisely because of this, education should be the space where multiple perspectives are explored, where difficult questions are asked, and where empathy is cultivated. Introducing tightly controlled, state-approved textbooks that privilege a single narrative risks undoing these efforts. It risks reproducing the very patterns that have historically led to exclusion, polarization, and violence. Is There an Alternative? The recent introduction of so-called “nationally significant textbooks” in Serbia has sparked serious concern among educators, researchers, and civil society organizations. Among them, the Critical Education Centre (CKO) has submitted a set of formal objections during the public consultation process — objections that were ultimately not accepted. This is not just a procedural issue. It is a political one. What is the problem? At the core of the reform is a simple but dangerous idea: that certain school subjects, especially language, history, and arts and culture, should serve the purpose of strengthening national identity and cohesion. This idea is veery troubling as a concept, but even more so in practice. CKO, in its official submission, warned that this approach represents a “securitization of education”, a shift in which textbooks are no longer treated as pedagogical tools, but as instruments of national policy. This framing matters, because once education becomes tied to “national security,” it becomes much harder to question it. Criticism is no longer seen as part of democratic debate, but as a (national) threat. What CKO is Warning About? CKO’s objections go beyond general concerns. They point to very concrete risks embedded in the law itself: Political control over knowledge productionBy privileging “national interest” as a criterion, the law opens space for selecting authors based on ideological alignment rather than academic quality. Erasure of plural perspectivesIn subjects like history and culture, a single “official” narrative risks excluding minority voices and alternative interpretations. Weakening of democratic procedureThe fact that objections submitted during public consultation were not meaningfully incorporated raises serious questions about transparency and participation. These are not abstract fears. They are grounded in both historical experience and contemporary research. Education or indoctrination? The key question is not whether national identity should be part of education. It always is, in some form. The real question is: who defines this identity, and whose voices are excluded in the process? CKO’s intervention reminds us that education policy is never neutral. It reflects political choices and those choices shape future generations. Ignoring expert and civil society input is not just bad governance. It is a warning sign. Because once education becomes a closed system, controlled from the top, it stops producing critical citizens — and starts producing obedient ones. You can read the full set of comments submitted by CKO here.You can read the paper published by CKO researchers on the risks of this law here.
