Author: Mary Drosopoulos The Balkans, with its rich mosaic of cultures, histories, and stories, have long been a site of complex political identities and alliances. In this intricate tapestry, Balkan women authors have emerged as powerful voices of dissent, solidarity, and advocacy, often drawing connections between their histories of displacement and the plight of others. Among the many causes that have sparked their literary and activist fervor, Palestine has stood out as a particularly poignant symbol of resistance. After all, the written word is not merely an artifact of aesthetic value, but a political act; a medium through which justice can—and must—be imagined. This article delves into the stories of two remarkable women authors from the Balkans whose journeys with Palestine have taken unconventional and often challenging paths. One, a writer from North Macedonia, stumbled upon the Palestinian cause not in her homeland but in Germany, where the collision of diasporic identities and political awakenings led her to discover new dimensions of solidarity. The other, a thriving literary voice in Berlin, found her career sabotaged by editorial and publishing circles due to her outspoken stance on Palestine, ultimately forcing her to leave Germany and seek refuge in spaces more accommodating of her convictions. Through their experiences, one can explore the intersections of literature, activism, and exile, shedding light on how Balkan women writers navigate global struggles for justice while grappling with the unique challenges of their own geopolitical and cultural landscapes. ‘Perfect Chaos’: Crossing Borders, Weaving Narratives Marina Trajkovska’s journey into Palestinian advocacy began not in her homeland of North Macedonia but in Germany, where an entirely new world of narratives and solidarities opened before her. Growing up in a country embroiled in its own political disputes, her exposure to Palestine was shaped by a narrow and heavily filtered media lens: "The only things we heard were about the Gaza Strip and terrorism," she recalls in an interview for Balkan Talks. This limited perspective was further complicated by North Macedonia’s gratitude towards Israel for its formal recognition of the country as the "Republic of Macedonia," a politically sensitive acknowledgment that relegated Palestine’s story to the margins. It was only after moving to Berlin that Trajkovska encountered a vibrant Palestinian diaspora and began to unravel the complexities of their culture, history, and struggle. Through her work with the Berlin-based NGO Loesje e.V., she participated in programs funded by the European Commission designed to foster dialogue and creativity between Israelis and Palestinians. Moreover, her understanding of the Middle East was enriched as a participant and alumna of the Euro-Arab Youth Forum, a longstanding initiative of the Council of Europe with the League of Arab States, aiming at promoting intercultural dialogue among young people and organisations. What began as a professional opportunity soon transformed into a deeply personal passion. With subsequent trips, she immersed herself in Palestinian cities, villages, and communities, forging connections that would profoundly influence both her activism and her creative work. Marina Trajkovska book signing in Bitola, 2017 Trajkovska’s engagement with Palestine was not confined to observation. Her activism focused on empowering Palestinian youth by integrating them into international initiatives and European projects. Through these efforts, she sought to create opportunities for cultural exchange and mutual understanding. This hands-on approach deeply informed her creative pursuits, particularly her trilogy, Perfect Chaos. The first volume, published in late 2017, explores the roles and responsibilities of women across different societies, with a protagonist who is intricately connected to Palestine. For Trajkovska, the trilogy was more than a work of fiction; it was an act of education and advocacy. North Macedonia, a country without formal diplomatic ties to Palestine and with limited media coverage of the conflict, lacks widespread understanding of the Palestinian struggle. Trajkovska’s work sought to bridge this gap, offering readers a nuanced portrayal of Palestinian culture, resilience, and daily life. "Despite the different places where we live, the expectations of women are more or less similar everywhere," she notes, emphasizing the universality of human experience amidst diversity. Yet, the author is acutely aware of the political constraints shaping her homeland’s stance on Palestine. North Macedonia’s dependence on Israeli support in its transitional economy has influenced its foreign policy, often aligning it against Palestinian interests in fora like the United Nations. Despite this, she believes that her people hold a deep empathy for Palestinians, informed by their own historical traumas, thus ‘a shared sense of suffering." Marina Trajkovska in Jerusalem, 2019 Author, Character and Lived Experience: Principles Beyond the Page Lana Bastašić, the Zagreb-born Bosnian-Serb author of the acclaimed road trip novel Catch the Rabbit, has never shied away from navigating turbulent waters, whether in her fiction or in life. Her novel, originally published in Serbo-Croatian as Uhvati zeca (2018), which won the 2020 European Union Prize for Literature, is a poignant meditation on identity, memory, and the fraught landscapes of post-Yugoslav reality. Like the narrator of her celebrated work, who embarks on a chaotic journey through the fissures of history and friendship, Bastašić herself has undertaken a journey of profound ethical reckoning—this time on the frontlines of cultural politics. In a decision that sent ripples through literary circles, Bastašić, who was until recently based in Berlin, announced last January on Instagram the termination of her contract with S. Fischer Verlag, one of Germany’s most esteemed publishing houses, citing its silence on the Israeli bombardment of Gaza and the systematic censorship she observed unfolding in Germany. Bastašić was unsparing in her critique of Germany’s intellectual climate, accusing it of suppressing Jewish artists, writers, and scholars who have spoken out against Israeli policies. Many, she noted, had been “silenced,” lost their livelihoods, or faced public vilification. This silence, she argued, undermined any claims to combatting antisemitism. In severing ties with S. Fischer, the author struck a blow against what she sees as a moral void in the German literary establishment, exposing the uncomfortable nexus between cultural prestige and political complacency. Lana Bastašić The consequences of this decision were immediate and far-reaching. Bastašić openly acknowledged the financial losses incurred by walking away from a German translation deal. "The advance that I would have gotten for my next novel in German translation is bigger than all my other nineteen translations combined," she remarked in an interview with Middle East Eye. For any writer, the German market represents not just income, but visibility: invitations to festivals, readings, and book fairs. For Bastašić, however, the cost of staying silent far outweighed the material gains of compliance. In the months that followed, she announced her leaving Berlin. It is tempting to frame this decision as an act of self-sacrifice, yet this would do a disservice to her resolve. Like her Catch the Rabbit protagonist, who refuses the comfort of forgetting, the author herself refuses to disengage from the fractures that define our world. Her choice is not simply a renunciation of privilege but a reminder that the privilege of a voice must be wielded responsibly. In Bastašić’s personal narrative, one finds echoes of her literary work: the same unflinching gaze, the same determination to uncover uncomfortable truths. Defiance as Creation; feminist activism under the postcolonial solidarity lens This act of defiance sits at the crossroads of several pressing questions: What does it mean to be an artist in times of moral crisis? How does one navigate the tension between creative autonomy and ethical responsibility? For an artist, the act of defiance is not merely a rejection of oppression; it is the reclamation of agency, the insistence on the autonomy to speak, to create, and to resist. As the philosopher Jacques Rancière argues, “Politics is about what is seen and what can be said about it, about who has the ability to see and the talent to speak.” In this sense, the act of defiance is deeply tied to the very essence of art. For Marina Trajkovska and Lana Bastašić, defiance has manifested in profoundly different yet equally consequential ways. Their experiences, shaped by their identities as Balkan women writers and their shared advocacy for Palestine, illuminate the tension between the artist’s ethical responsibility and the constraints imposed by geopolitics, economics, and institutional power. The city of Berlin, symbolic in itself for its history of division, served as a pivotal stage—offering freedom and opportunity to one, and constraint to the other. The personal stories of these two authors are not isolated incidents but part of a broader tradition of Balkan women writers whose work transcends the boundaries of art to enter the realm of activism. Emerging from a region historically defined by conflict, marginalization, and political upheaval, these women often embody what Svetlana Slapšak, a prominent feminist scholar from the Balkans, has termed the “double burden” of writing: grappling with both patriarchal oppression and the political demands of a divided and contentious space. For centuries, Balkan women writers have used literature as a tool for resistance, drawing on their own histories of displacement and struggle to advocate for others. Their work often blurs the lines between the personal and the political, reflecting a commitment to justice that is as much lived as it is written. This dual role—artist and activist—positions them uniquely to engage with global struggles. In Trajkovska’s case, her advocacy stems from an empathetic connection between the historical traumas of the Balkans and the contemporary plight of Palestinians. She draws on shared experiences of displacement, colonial meddling, and the erasure of identity, using her literature to foster understanding and solidarity. Her activism reflects the theoretical framework of postcolonial solidarity (Todorova 1997; Ugrešić 1996; Rexhepi 2018), wherein marginalized groups recognize their interconnected struggles against global systems of power. Bastašić, on the other hand, exemplifies the feminist ethic of refusal articulated by Sara Ahmed in Living a Feminist Life (2017). Ahmed writes, “To refuse to reproduce what you inherit is to refuse to make it easier for a history to keep happening in the same way” (2017:2). Bastašić’s decision to sever ties with her German publisher is a refusal to participate in a system that profits from her voice while silencing others. Her defiance is a feminist act of rupture, a rejection of complicity that forces the cultural establishment to confront its ethical failings. In a conclusive thought, one could say that for any artist, but especially one whose work and experience is situated in the Balkan context (be it geographically, personally or academically), resistance is not merely a posture but a relentless reconfiguration of what can be spoken, seen, and endured.

This year, on October 20th, Belgrade celebrated the 80th anniversary of its liberation from the fascist regime in World War II. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, "Belgrade should have celebrated," as the local government of the capital of former Yugoslavia is actively promoting historical revisionism. Belgrade's Mayor Aleksandar Šapić has even discussed relocating the grave of Yugoslav President Josip Broz Tito from the city. His absurd proposals go so far that, ahead of this anniversary, he announced plans to repaint the city’s buses, which are in “socialist red” and “resemble a hot dog stand”, into blue, supposedly "the color of the Serbian Nemanjić dynasty". It's not just the graves and red buses that have come under fire from the city authorities, but also buildings that stand as symbols of this historical era. While factories and public enterprises were systematically privatized immediately after the fall of Yugoslavia, the buildings and bridges weren't demolished right away. They likely awaited some investors with good offers. Now, they are being systematically sold off at hefty discounts. Why "systematically"? Buildings of cultural significance from the Yugoslav era, such as the Beograđanka, the Genex Tower, and the Belgrade Fair, have been deliberately neglected for years. After being left uncared for, the passage of time has caused them to deteriorate, reducing their market value. Combine that with historical revisionism that denies their cultural importance, and these iconic structures are being handed over to investors who will tear them down in a matter of days and erect "fancy" luxury buildings, where apartments will be sold at exorbitant prices. A simple equation, really. Hotel Jugoslavija with a fence, photo by Vasilije Brojčin The latest target of the city authorities is the renowned Hotel Jugoslavija. In September 2024, the city government adopted a detailed regulation plan that anticipates the Hotel's demolition following its sale in March 2024 to Millennium Team, a company close to the ruling party. Although a demolition permit had not been issued at the time of writing, just days after the plan was approved, fences appeared around the Hotel, behind which bulldozers and machinery can be seen. However, one thing disrupted the city government's calculations—local activists. Led by an opposition party, the Green Left Front, they have gathered to resist not only the procedural violations but also the disregard for the Hotel's cultural and historical significance, as well as the potential environmental impact the construction of a new complex could have on residents of the Zemun and New Belgrade municipalities. Today, we speak with Vasilije Brojčin, activist who grew up in the neighborhood and have been actively involved in efforts to prevent the destruction of this landmark. They share their connection to the Hotel, the importance of preserving it, and the ongoing struggle to save it from demolition. Can you tell us about your connection to Hotel Jugoslavija and what that building means to you? Since I spent my whole childhood residing in this part of New Belgrade and Zemun, the Hotel reminds me of walks along the Danube quay with my parents and grandparents as a child, as it is a typical local milestone when going on a walk. "Are you going far? No, just to Jugoslavija and back" We still like to walk there; it's as relaxing as ever, but now, with the plans for demolition, that experience is in danger of being reduced to memories only. How did you first get involved in the fight to prevent the demolition of the Hotel? I began to participate in this cause as soon as the Green-Left Front (GLF) learned that the company that bought the Hotel plans to demolish it. I joined GLF back when it was Ne da(vi)mo Beograd (Do not let Belgrade d(r)own), a movement known for fighting capitalistic urbanism and gentrification, so it is already a niche of activism I have experience in. What is the historical and cultural significance of Hotel Jugoslavija for the local community and beyond? Its historical significance is undisputed, as it is a building that hosted many important people from many different backgrounds, from political figures to Hollywood actors and even astronauts from the Apollo 11 Moon landing mission. In the architectural sense, it's a prime example of socialist modernism. It fits in harmony with the architecture of neighboring housing blocks, so it never looked out of place, probably one of the reasons it was always accepted by the locals. Hotel Jugoslavija is a neighborhood landmark for the local community, including me. It symbolizes returning home after work or school, similar to the sight of Genex Tower when you're returning from a long trip. Photo: From the legacy of Stevan Kragujević (collection of the Museum of Yugoslavia) What are some of the critical arguments that activists have presented against the city's plan to demolish the Hotel? Aside from the building itself being of historical importance, we argue (and expert's opinions support) that its demolition and replacement with a complex consisting of a much bigger central building and the two 155m tall skyscrapers would have devastating consequences on its surroundings from putting additional pressure on traffic and parking infrastructure that would not be able to accommodate the influx of vehicles, to ecological destabilization of Danube river and protected ecosystem of its Great war island, home to many different species of birds. Of course, one of our major issues with this project, as leftists, is that it has precisely zero benefits to the local community and an average person. It includes no public amenities and is just another playground for the rich, one of the many popping up around Belgrade. How have the local authorities and city officials responded to the concerns raised by activists? Activists did not encounter understanding from the local or city officials; their reactions ranged from regularly denying all written complaints to being condescending to activists who attended the public debate at the Bureau of Urbanism. There have been reports of bulldozers arriving at the site despite the demolition permit not yet being issued. How did you and other activists react to this development? Yes, it's true. A fence has been built, and some construction equipment is on standby. We were outraged but not surprised as the company set to carry out the demolition and construction of the luxury complex is known to disregard laws regarding urban planning. What actions has the activist community taken so far to stop the demolition, and have any legal steps been initiated to prevent it? There were multiple campaigns to inform the locals about the plans for demolition, and a warning protest was also held with stands where attendees could sign a complaint form. Those complaints, the only legal procedure available, were labeled by city officials as unreasonable and driven solely by nostalgia, even though the experts in architecture and urbanism wrote those. What challenges have you faced during this campaign, and how do you and other activists stay motivated to continue fighting? The biggest challenge was and still is, to inform the public. Since all the biggest media companies are pro-ruling parties and won't report on any criticism of any of their projects, you have to do everything grassroots: hand out flyers, put up posters, go door to door, and talk to people in person. Previous successful local initiatives against capitalist urbanism and invasive construction projects motivate us to persist in our fight. We strive to replicate examples from New Belgrade's blocks 37 and 63, where the local community got together, defended their public spaces, and sent the investors back to where they came from. Many believe that the companies involved in the project are closely tied to Belgrade's political establishment. How does this influence the dynamics of the fight to save the Hotel? Yes, those same companies are involved in all of the construction projects of the current political establishment, from the notorious Belgrade Waterfront to Expo 2027, so there is no doubt that politicians in power have financial benefits from their operations. That doesn't affect the activists too much, except that disturbing knowledge that you are up against something potentially dangerous and much more significant than yourself, a mafia of sorts. Looking forward, what are your hopes for the future of Hotel Jugoslavija? What would be your ideal outcome for this building and the surrounding area? After the Hotel is defended, the most realistic outcome would be to become a hotel again since it's, unfortunately, private property. But if I'm talking ideally, like a dream outcome in the ideal society, it would be turned into student accommodation, and what a cool one it could be, considering its perfect location for recreational activities and good public transit connection to the rest of the city. Photo: From the legacy of Stevan Kragujević (collection of the Museum of Yugoslavia) For Vasilije and other residents of New Belgrade and Zemun, to continue to create memories within the public spaces surrounding the Hotel Jugoslavija, it is necessary that the local authorities once and for all hear their constituents and act in their best interest instead of only their own. It remains to be seen how much pressure from the activists and interested citizens will have to be directed towards the investors and local authorities in order to stop this kind of urban planning which neglect the public interest.

Last week, a group of European Green Youth activists protested in Brussels during the session of the European Parliament. Rebelling against fossil fuel subsidies, this group of people calmly unfurled a banner in the Parliament. However, this act did not receive a positive reaction from the authorities. On the contrary, some of the activists were arrested and held in custody until the end of the day. Among them was Andrej Zlatović, a young activist of the Green Youth of Serbia. We talked with Andrej about this stormy reaction, the general green idea, and what it means for reconciliation in the Balkans. Why do you think the police used such a repressive measure as arresting during a peaceful protest? How do you comment on that? What does it mean? If we try to look at it objectively, it's a mix of factors. One reason why we were detained is that we chose a day when a large Extinction Rebellion (XR) protest was taking place. The police was prepared to be especially cruel to climate protesters and even inspected the banner before deciding to detain us. As the Belgium and European elections are approaching the state is on alert for anything that could be considered to influence voters’ behavior. However, just a few weeks before, a banner-drop protest for climate justice took place in the European Parliament (EP). No one was detained there, so I have no clue why we were met with such manners. We didn't break any laws of the state of Belgium, nor did the police even claim we did. For someone looking for a more thorough understanding of why we were detained, it lies in the continued erosion of the right to protest all around Europe and the world. Look at the laws being passed in the UK regarding the right to protest; in the EP, a couple of days before, the right for a peaceful but disruptive protest was attacked. This is not something unique to Western Europe. However, in Serbia for example, we saw brutal protest repressions in December, although in the Balkans, we were often expected to look up at Western Europe and their freedom of speech, which I think a lot of people are now aware stands true more in theory than in reality. What is your assessment? Is there less freedom in the Western Balkans regarding civil disobedience? Have you ever had problems with the police in the countries of the Western Balkans? Here in the Western Balkans, our relationship to civil disobedience is different than in Western Europe. We traditionally feel more like pawns and targets for our systems, and people here don't have a long heritage of peaceful protest like in the West. That being said, we do feel that the police we have in the Balkans is the worst in all of Europe, barring maybe Belarus and Russia, which leads to people having more on the line when participating in civil disobedience. If it comes to this, they usually take the form of mass disruptive protests, which are street walks and blockades, which take place over a few hours, and everyone then returns to the status quo. Actions such as the ones we did, a banner drop and a speech disrupting a public event, are rare and lead to little outreach here, but they are more likely to result in criminal prosecution. Personally, as a Belgrade local, I often had issues with the police and dreaded whenever I had to call them or rely on them. Since the ability of police officers to stop and search anyone is regularly (ab)used, I have often been the target of searches lasting somewhere from 15 minutes to an hour, sometimes multiple times per week. This, while it does not constitute direct assault, is degrading and stressful. Crossing the border anytime is like a test of patience, where, despite having no criminal record, I must reiterate that I am not smuggling contraband, and I must state the reason for my travel. The result when someone is disproportionately targeted by law enforcement just because of how they style their hair, dress, or express themselves is that after a while, they start feeling guilty just for walking around the city like they are incapable of not looking suspicious or lawful. Additionally, acts of violence are something I have seen before, as also the mistreatment of detained individuals and disrespect of their rights. In one of the main streets in Belgrade, police regularly question people; these are usually citizens of Roma background or darker-skinned individuals. This showcases that even here, the police periodically resort to racial profiling, where precisely the stereotype that Roma people are thieves is permeated in society, which you can imagine takes a toll on their role in this same society. We see that despite all the difficulties and police brutality, you continue to fight for the green idea. Can you tell us something more about the idea? Does it concern only the preservation of the planet, or does it have a more comprehensive ideology? Usually, when we say green politics, people only think of ecology; however, it is equally in part inclusivity, democracy, and non-violence. To fully understand green values, we must also consider conflict aversion, reconciliation, and peacebuilding when conflict erupts. We must also achieve social justice to achieve climate justice, as our environment will be stable only in a peaceful world. These ideas are interlocked and cannot be unspooled from each other if we aim to truly achieve a better society. Specifically, our portal is interested in your movement's attitude towards reconciliation in the Western Balkans.Can reconciliation of the countries at war in the Western Balkans in the nineties be achieved through green ideas and politics? These topics are of immense importance for the Western Balkans, and we, as green activists, are the only ones who truly postulate these ideas in the region. It is no wonder that green movements are gaining traction in both Croatia and Belgrade. Having strong representation in capital cities in both countries is quintessential for us to work towards closer relationships amongst neighboring countries. Countries that fought a bloody war that left so many dead and displaced. To heal this period's wounds, we must build bridges and work on promoting reconciliation instead of stoking fears and tension as the right wing usually does. As a person of both Croatian and Serbian heritage who has faced widespread discrimination due to his background, I hold the peacebuilding aspect of green values quite dear and try to always keep it in mind when working as an activist. In the end, can you tell me what measures the Green Youth of Serbia takes or will take to fight for reconciliation in the Western Balkans? With the Green Youth of Serbia, we have solid plans to work on reconciliation. We are aware we cannot change Serbia's foreign policy. Still, we will take clear stances on questions of international politics in the region to cooperate and learn from our neighbors. When we work with people from the area in the Balkans, it carries a much different message than when let's say, a French and a Spanish person cooperate since their countries have had close ties for years because of the European Union. In that sense, it takes more effort than people outside our region know. We still have actions that have strengthened regional cooperation so far. Recently, our members went to Prizren to talk to young Kosovo Albanians about reconciliation and how civic initiatives can help build peace. Croatian and Bosnian organizations and NGOs are often at our side when doing projects, like the one we had about railways within the Western Balkans. This is an example of what I was talking about earlier: peacebuilding and ecological actions go hand in hand in green politics – we were talking about an idea for railways in Croatia, Greece, Montenegro, North Macedonia and Serbia and how to connect these countries. These trains would not only work on reducing pollution but would further ease travel in the region, therefore empowering neighborly ties. The world is an interconnected system, and by employing one of our policies, we also find ways to support our other ideas. This is necessary to show people that the Western Balkans are equally a part of Europe, as right now, we are often discredited and seen as separated or isolated. We know that learning about yourself means learning about those that surround you, so we always have activists from the region meet and talk in a safe space. In the upcoming months, there will be a green academy in Montenegro that some of our members will support as organizers, and activists from the whole region will be there. Additionally, if it goes as planned, a camp in Serbia promoting green ideas will happen this summer, but we will have more information about that soon. If you want to stay updated about this, follow GYS and see us implement these ideas! Green Youth of Serbia web page Green Youth of Serbia Facebook Green Youth of Serbia Instagram