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.

Author: Vladimir Stojković Although I am someone who was very small when the breakup of Yugoslavia began, I became aware of the importance of the idea of ​​such a federation. The very idea of ​​such a community was significantly progressive and went beyond the primitive narrow ethnic views of a multicultural society. In the idea of ​​Yugoslavia, I saw at least an attempt at the formation of nations that happened after the French Revolution throughout Europe. It meant connecting people from different regions and different cultures. Like say in France and Italy. People created and adopted their new common identity over time. This is how societies of free people were formed, who voluntarily took part in such a community. However, something like that in the Balkans, i.e. former Yugoslavia was not possible. In other words, Yugoslavia was an attempt to achieve something like this here as well, but the nationalism of the ethnic groups interrupted that good idea. Mostar, city in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Author: Marcel Dominic, pixabay.com This is the climate of societies that base their existence on mythology. This constant need for societies to compete in who has a "richer" national history, etc. they cannot lead to progress and the survival of a social community. The aim of such "histories" is to glorify ethnic virtues and to somehow develop a sense of uniqueness of a certain ethnic group and supremacy in relation to its neighbors in the region. It is especially interesting to see this in the area of ​​the former Yugoslavia, where peoples who speak the same language live and who are much closer to each other in terms of mentality than, say, Italians from southern and northern Italy. The wars of the 1990s on the territory of the former Yugoslavia set a lot of things back. People argue over territories and drawing borders. The dominance of a certain ethnic group and the suppression of minority groups is one of the main characteristics of such societies. That way of functioning of a society has been absolutely surpassed and reminds of some medieval times and the age of feudalism. It is difficult to expect the restoration of Yugoslavia as we knew it in the near future, but the idea of ​​association and federalism certainly exists and that is what we should strive for. Perhaps the peoples of this area can once again be in some form of a common federation. The political and security situation in Europe and the world is such that the entry of all the countries of the former Yugoslavia, and the Balkans as a whole, into the EU would be a rational step forward. In this way, the idea of ​​uniting into one union would be realized. It would be a stimulating injection for the Balkan countries, which would definitely push our societies into much more progressive trends in order to try to cross paths with the ghosts of the past.

We are thrilled to publish a new thought-provoking piece by Vladimir Petrović and Novak Vučo from the Innovation Center of the Institute for Contemporary History, University of Belgrade. Their article, “Belgrade Graffiti & Murals: Continuation of War by Other Means? – Traces of War in Yugoslavia and Ukraine in Belgrade Street Art: Reflections on Connections”, offers a gripping tour through Belgrade's streets, where right-wing nationalism, war nostalgia, and geopolitical tensions are fought out in paint, stencils, and slogans. From Ratko Mladić murals to the letter “Z” and graffiti wars over Kosovo and Ukraine — this text explores how political walls in Belgrade are covered in more than just paint, they’re layered with history, ideology, and unresolved conflict. The article has been positively peer-reviewed by Dr. Vjeran Pavlaković, one of the leading experts on graffiti, memory, and transitional justice in Southeast Europe. 👇 Download and read the full article in PDF: N.Vučo, V.Petrović - Belgrade Graffiti & MuralsDownload

Author: Vladyslava Oliinyk What do a child in Sarajevo in the 1990s and a child in Ukraine today have in common? A historian and student shares how moderating an exhibition at the Museum of War Childhood in Kyiv sparked a personal and academic journey into Balkan history, empathy, and the power of cultural memory. This blog reflects on how museums can connect past and present across borders—and how stories of childhood in wartime can bring people and nations closer together. Last summer, I had the unique opportunity to moderate a temporary exhibition at the Museum of War Childhood in Kyiv. Although the exhibition was managed by the museum’s Ukrainian branch, moderators like myself had to familiarize ourselves with the institution’s origins in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. The Museum of War Childhood is a relatively young institution—its permanent exhibition opened only in 2017—but its conceptual depth is striking. The idea behind the museum lies in the tension between the uniqueness and universality of growing up during wartime, as first explored in the book War Childhood by Bosnian entrepreneur and author Jasminko Halilović. Halilović transformed his personal experiences as a child during the Bosnian War (1992–1995) into a literary work and, eventually, a cultural institution. Photo by Oliinyk Vladyslava As a historian, I was familiar with the basic chronology and causes of the Bosnian War, but I had never examined the conflict on a micro level. During my undergraduate studies, my focus was on the history of visual art in Victorian Britain, and I gave little attention to Central or Eastern Europe. It wasn’t until Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine that I felt a personal urgency to understand the region’s post-Soviet transitions and the independence movements of neighboring countries. The complex and often painful recent history of the Balkans earned my deep respect, but at first, I struggled to see how our experiences were connected. Encountering the Museum of War Childhood changed that. I began to recognize parallels between the Russian-Ukrainian war and the Bosnian conflict—especially in how children navigate trauma, displacement, and interrupted childhoods during wartime. The museum made these connections tangible, offering a space where individual stories speak across national and temporal boundaries. Photo by Oliinyk Vladyslava In my growing curiosity about the Balkans, I chose to join a Central European University specifically because it offered a course on Balkan Studies. Ukrainian universities also offer Central and Eastern European studies, but I realized that to truly understand the region, I needed to learn from the people who live there. Who can speak more vividly about the intricacies of student protests in Serbia than those participating in them? Who can reflect more truthfully on the Bosnian war than those who lived through it? Through my studies and encounters, these questions are finding meaningful answers. My experience taught me how cultural institutions, like museums, can provide powerful tools for rethinking war, trauma, and identity. Today’s museums can connect the histories of different nations, revealing shared tragedies and common challenges—particularly for children navigating the chaos of war. This renewed focus on the experiences of minors has led me to new research interests and opened a new chapter of European history I had never expected to engage with so deeply. Museums, I’ve learned, can simultaneously build bridges and highlight difference—and in doing so, they provide a space where empathy, inquiry, and healing can coexist. Photo by Oliinyk Vladyslava Photo by Oliinyk Vladyslava

Since Serbian militias entered villages in the Kosovar province in 1999, many boys and men have been missing, including Fahrije’s husband—a single parent who had been caring for their two children and her disabled father-in-law. Left to ensure her family’s survival, Fahrije takes matters into her own hands. She first obtains a driver’s license, then starts a small business, actions that provoke the wrath of the conservative, patriarchal local society. The director, Blerta Basholli, originally from Kosovo, first encountered Fahrije Hoti’s story during an interview she gave on American television, in which she discussed the backlash she faced for seeking independence and proposing a cooperative to provide work for other widows in her community. At the time, the director was living in New York on a scholarship. Initially, she mistook the story for a joke due to her emotional and geographical distance from Kosovo. However, upon realizing the seriousness of Fahrije’s situation, she was inspired to delve deeper. Captivated by the story, the director began writing and directing what would eventually become Hive in 2011. A decade later, the film made history by winning all three major awards in the World Cinema section at the Sundance Film Festival—the only film to ever achieve this feat. Basholli approaches the story with restraint and confidence, avoiding unnecessary melodrama or overemphasis. This is a tale of humanity and resistance, framed by a clear feminist perspective. In Hive, patriarchy is represented not only through visible actions—such as stones smashing Fahrije’s car windows, her father-in-law’s objections or an attempted assault by a supplier—but also through the absence of a male protector. The ghost of patriarchy lingers in the perception that Fahrije’s efforts to support herself dishonor her missing husband. Her grief is entangled with guilt: if her husband is dead, her actions are seen as a confirmation of his death, dissolving their marriage, and rejecting her eternal dependence on him. If, by some miracle, he were alive, many believe he would feel ashamed of her. Fahrije’s husband thus becomes like Schrödinger’s cat—both alive and dead—while society seeks to confine her autonomy. The backdrop of numerous missing persons and the ongoing search for their remains adds an emotionally charged layer to the narrative, making Hive reminiscent of Parallel Mothers by Pedro Almodóvar. However, unlike Almodóvar’s melodramatic approach to historical tragedy, Basholli masterfully integrates the collective trauma of a community with one woman’s personal journey toward emancipation. Fahrije’s struggle becomes an example for the other widows in her village, who rally around her. Central to Fahrije’s transformation is her evolving relationship with her late husband’s beehive, which gives the film its title. Initially, she is a foreign presence, vulnerable to stings despite protective gear, and haunted by the notion that her husband had "never been stung." However, as she confronts societal obstacles and normalized misogyny disguised as tradition, she finds her strength. She emerges as the queen of the hive, uniting the worker bees to create an independent, resilient ecosystem that requires no male master. This symbolism underscores the real-life success of Fahrije and her colleagues, celebrated in the film’s credits. This way, Hive highlights the critical importance of women’s solidarity in challenging male dominance. Fahrije’s story is one of hope in a nation still haunted by the ghosts of a brutal war. The fact that the narrative is based on true events and a real woman makes its impact even more profound.