Autorka: Ana Milosavljević Ovaj članak je u originalu objavljen na autorkinom blogu Substack, gde možete čitati još njenih članaka. Na godišnjicu NATO bombardovanja Srbije — pogled na to šta javni diskurs pamti, a šta briše. Transparent ispred Skupštine Srbije koji osuđuje ubijanje dece od strane NATO-a. Svake godine 24. marta, isti narativ dominira javnim diskursom u Srbiji: više od 2.000 civila ubijenih u ilegalnoj, neosnovanoj NATO agresiji pod izgovorom spasavanja kosovskih Albanaca. Političari, mediji, i nažalost, mnogi iz takozvane levice u Srbiji fokusiraju se na vrlo konkretnu štetu koju je bombardovanje nanelo, ali to čine bez ikakvog priznanja onoga što je srpska vlast radila na Kosovu u godinama koje su prethodile bombardovanju. Razgovarala sam sa dvoje kosovskih Albanaca i jednom kosovskom Srpkinjom o njihovom tumačenju današnjeg obeležavanja, njihovim stavovima o NATO-u i nasilju srpske vlasti, i o tome šta je potrebno da bi se Srbi i Albanci ujedinili u zajedničkoj borbi. Danas političari i mediji (i režimski i opozicioni) predstavljaju događaje od pre 27 godina kao situaciju u kojoj je Srbija bila jedina žrtva. Često prikazuju stradanje Albanaca od strane Srbije kao zaveru koju je Zapad osmislio kako bi opravdao intervenciju. Činjenice govore sasvim drugačiju priču. NATO bombardovanje Novog Sada, Srbija, 1999. godine. Između 1998. i 1999. godine, srpske snage su nasilno proterale oko 850.000 Albanaca iz njihovih domova na Kosovu. Do kraja rata, ubijeno je više od 10.000 Albanaca, a hiljade su silovane ili mučene. Masovne grobnice Albanaca kasnije su pronađene na više lokacija u Srbiji, sa gotovo 1.000 tela koja su prebačena i tajno sahranjena. Mnogi se i danas vode kao nestali. Svedočenja vojnika se takođe zanemaruju u srpskom javnom diskursu. Jedan komandant tenkovske jedinice zabeležen je kako kaže: „Za sve vreme dok sam bio na Kosovu, nikada nisam video nijednog neprijateljskog vojnika i moja jedinica nijednom nije gađala vojne ciljeve. Tenkovi koji koštaju 2,5 miliona dolara korišćeni su za masakriranje albanske dece… Stid me je.“ Povodom sistematskog izostavljanja ovih istorijskih činjenica iz današnjeg diskursa, razgovarala sam sa kosovskim Albancima: sa Leom1, koja živi u Prištini, i Arberom, koji je deo kosovsko-albanske dijaspore u Londonu. Lea je primetila da način na koji se predstavlja NATO bombardovanje, bez ikakvog priznanja kroz šta su Albanci prošli, u njoj izaziva osećaj da je „izluđena“ i „dehumanizovana“. „To nije polazna tačka sa koje možemo da razgovaramo, posebno imajući u vidu da je sa naše strane uložen značajan trud da se priznaju i srpske žrtve rata“, dodaje ona. Arber je slično komentarisao da on takav narativ doživljava kao „šamar u lice“, navodeći da takav narativ odražava širi trend brisanja iskustava kroz koja su Albanci na Kosovu prolazili, ne samo tokom 1998–1999, već kroz čitav 20. vek. To brisanje nije počelo 1999. godine. Za Albance, ono predstavlja dužu istoriju represije, od jugoslovenskih kolonizacionih kampanja početkom 20. veka do institucionalne diskriminacije i nasilja tokom 1990-ih. Mapa iz 20. veka koja prikazuje jugoslovensku kolonizaciju na Kosovu i u Severnoj Makedoniji. Ovaj diskurs ne kritikuju samo Albanci. Marija Savić iz Gnjilana opisala je dominantni srpski prikaz bombardovanja kao primer „selektivnog sećanja“ koje „služi reprodukciji nacionalističkog narativa“. „Fokus je isključivo na Srbiji kao žrtvi spoljne agresije, dok ne postoji sistemsko suočavanje sa kontinuiranom represijom albanskog naroda na Kosovu: od kolonijalnih politika i nasilja početkom 20. veka, preko institucionalne diskriminacije u Jugoslaviji, do otvorenog sistema aparthejda i represije nad Albancima tokom 1990-ih“, rekla je. Upravo taj kontekst pomaže da se razume zašto su mnogi kosovski Albanci podržali NATO intervenciju, koja je okončala srpsku kontrolu nad Kosovom. Kako Lea objašnjava: „Intervencija 1999. zaustavila je rat i omogućila nam da se vratimo svojim životima, domovima, institucijama. Može biti istina da je intervencija bila kolonijalne prirode i da je izazvala civilne žrtve i druge negativne posledice, ali je takođe istina da je period nakon rata i nakon proglašenja nezavisnosti 2008. doneo mnogo nade mnogim ljudima ovde, koji su samo deceniju ranije živeli svakodnevni život u stalnom strahu.“ Arber je slično opisao svoja kontradiktorna osećanja prema NATO-u: „Iako priznajem da je NATO prisustvo na Kosovu uklonilo Srbiju, koja je bila regionalni kolonizator naše zajednice, takođe priznajem i probleme NATO-a kao upravljačkog tela… Neću do kraja života osećati dug njima, niti ću dozvoliti da budem moralno manipulisán od strane NATO-a kako bih izbrisao realnosti i problematične stvari koje rade kao institucija.“ Kosovske novine koje izveštavaju o proglašenju nezavisnosti Kosova 17. februara 2008. godine. Marija je takođe naglasila da je neophodno kritički sagledati i NATO i srpsku državu, te da te dve stvari nisu međusobno isključive. „Diskurs u Srbiji o ovom pitanju je potpuno binaran; ako kritikujete ulogu Srbije, označeni ste kao izdajnik iz nevladinog sektora, dok ako kritikujete NATO agresiju, označeni ste kao srpski nacionalista — a nijedno od toga nije tačno. NATO i srpska vlast su vrlo slični u svojim represivnim i kolonijalnim politikama.“ Izjave američkih zvaničnika dodatno potkrepljuju argument da NATO intervencija nije bila humanitarne prirode. Kako je napisao Stroub Talbot, zamenik američkog državnog sekretara od 1994. do 2001: „Otpor Jugoslavije širim trendovima političkih i ekonomskih reformi — a ne sudbina kosovskih Albanaca — najbolje objašnjava NATO rat.“ Lea i Arber su oboje izrazili spremnost da kritički preispitaju ulogu NATO-a na Kosovu — pod uslovom da se srpsko društvo suoči sa sopstvenim revizionističkim narativima. „Spremna sam da učestvujem u svakom razgovoru koji kritikuje postojanje NATO-a, ali osećam odgovornost da se prvo suočimo sa predrasudama koje nas sprečavaju da budemo ravnopravni učesnici u tim razgovorima“, rekla je Lea. Kako Arber kaže, „na osnovnom nivou, ne možeš biti u solidarnosti sa ljudima koji ne žele da imaš jednaka prava kao oni.“ Percepcija da Srbi ne žele da žive u jednakosti sa Albancima može se videti u brojnim primerima, a najskorije u upotrebi pogrdnog naziva za Albance u skandiranjima protiv predsednika Srbije Aleksandra Vučića na protestima tokom protekle godine. Marija opisuje sopstveni put suočavanja sa tim realnostima: „Bilo je potrebno mnogo odvikavanja da bih se oslobodila anti-albanskog sentimenta i nacionalizma… Verujem da su internacionalizam i klasno jedinstvo u borbi protiv kapitalizma jedini put ka oslobođenju svih balkanskih naroda.“ Nedostatak informacija o represivnoj ulozi srpske vlasti nad Albancima otežava prevazilaženje ovih predrasuda. Nakon što je video da mnogi Srbi ne znaju osnovne istorijske činjenice o Kosovu, Arber je 2020. osnovao edukativno-kulturnu platformu „Balkanism”. Balkanism teži dekonstrukciji etnonacionalističkih narativa širom regiona kroz slavljenje sličnosti i razlika, uz priznanje istorijske represije različitih zajednica. „Razumem da smo u okviru nacionalnih država svi sebe povezali sa državom kao produžetkom sebe. Ali mislim da onog trenutka kada počnemo to da dekonstruišemo i da sebe vidimo više kao nosioce kulture, istorije i identiteta koji se preklapaju, možemo da komuniciramo na mnogo humaniji način“, kaže on. Naslovna strana prvog broja časopisa „Balkanism“, objavljenog u septembru 2024. godine. Dok je Marija kroz obrazovanje i suočavanje sa sopstvenim predrasudama doživela transformaciju, smatra da se stvarna promena ne može svesti na pojedinca. „Anti-albanski sentiment i odbijanje suočavanja sa prošlošću duboko su ukorenjeni u ideološkim aparatima srpske države.“ Da bi se srpsko društvo adekvatno transformisalo, potrebno je promeniti njegove političke i ekonomske sisteme, kaže ona. Za nju to podrazumeva klasnu analizu koja prepoznaje da radnici u Srbiji i na Kosovu imaju zajedničke interese protiv vladajuće kapitalističke elite u obe zemlje. Smatra da pristup treba da bude dvostruk: Srbi bi trebalo bezuslovno da priznaju pravo Kosova na samoopredeljenje, razgrade mit o Kosovu kao „srcu Srbije“, i obnove klasnu politiku i internacionalizam. S druge strane, radnička klasa na Kosovu treba da odbaci sopstvenu vladajuću elitu i radi na proterivanju imperijalističkih sila sa svoje teritorije. Da li je takvo jedinstvo moguće — Lea i Arber se razilaze. „S obzirom na duboko nepoverenje koje postoji, toliko bola i nedostatka odgovornosti, teško je zamisliti kako se to može prevazići. I vidimo kako se Albanci tretiraju u Srbiji 2026. godine, kroz iredentističke grafite o Kosovu i anti-albanske povike, da se ništa nije promenilo. Sa naše strane takođe postoji mnogo neprijateljstva koje deluje nepremostivo. Zbog toga kako su rat i naša politička situacija oblikovali mene, deo mene se već neko vreme mentalno priprema za novi rat. I to mi daje motivaciju da se uključim u ovu diskusiju“, rekla je Lea. Za Arbera, rad na zajedničkoj budućnosti počinje građenjem stvarnih veza preko etničkih linija. „Ja sam veoma optimistična osoba. Deo moje životne prakse je izgradnja odnosa sa zajednicama sa takozvane ‘druge strane’. To je suštinski deo mog života. Vidim to kao ispravljanje istorijskih nepravdi i poništavanje kolonijalnog nasilja koje je nametnuto Kosovu, kao i uspostavljanje odnosa sa zajednicama sa kojima delimo mnogo toga istorijski i kulturno“, kaže on. U različitim kontekstima, istorija se prikazuje kao da počinje u politički pogodnom trenutku. U Palestini, zapadni mejnstrim mediji i političke elite žele da verujete da istorija počinje 7. oktobra 2023. U Srbiji, slični akteri tvrde da istorija počinje 24. marta 1999, čineći sve što je prethodilo nevažnim. Ovakav pristup instrumentalizuje nedostatak obrazovanja kako bi opravdao sistemske predrasude koje u konačnici ne služe interesima običnih ljudi. Kao što razgovori u ovom tekstu sugerišu, suočavanje sa ovim narativima zahteva više od samih informacija. Potrebna je spremnost da se sluša, da se preispituju nasleđene pretpostavke i da se suočimo sa neprijatnim istinama. Put ka trajnom miru na Balkanu ne uključuje selektivno sećanje, već se zasniva na iskrenom i objektivnom pogledu na prošlost — onom koji ostavlja prostor za sve čija su iskustva dugo bila negirana.

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.