Serbia's Government on Brink as Protests Show No Signs of Abating
A year has passed since the collapse of a concrete canopy at Novi Sad railway station, claiming 16 lives and sparking a wave of protests against corruption, negligence, and government arrogance. The tragedy exposed deep-seated issues within Serbia's government, which has long been characterized by a culture of impunity and patronage.
The regime's success was measured in kilometres of asphalt and track, with President Aleksandar Vučić's ruling party touting new infrastructure projects as election promises. However, the government prioritized speed over safety, with officials suspending permit requirements for key infrastructure projects, including a tunnel that lacked automatic safety monitoring.
Protests have been a regular feature of Serbian politics since 2016, with near-annual waves of demonstrations training ground for future activists. The regime's response has become increasingly repressive, with police beating and chasing peaceful protesters, and nearly a thousand citizens arrested since the uprising began.
Vučić's government is seen as increasingly isolated, relying on Moscow for support while maintaining a fragile balance with Western powers. Russia's grip on Serbia's security apparatus remains underestimated, with intelligence networks operating with impunity and hired thugs borrowing from the Kremlin's playbook to intimidate protesters.
The public mood has shifted decisively against Vučić's regime, with 53% of Serbs now saying the country is moving in the wrong direction. Disillusionment over economic issues, including inflation and stagnant wages, has deepened, while debt remains a pressing concern.
The government's response to the protests has been marked by desperation, including making public transport free as a gesture of largesse. Vučić's Serbia now resembles a Ponzi scheme, borrowing legitimacy through spectacle while deferring collapse.
As the anniversary of the canopy collapse approaches, several paths are possible for Serbia. The opposition and civil society may attempt to negotiate with the regime, but their efforts have been unsuccessful in the past. The students who sparked the protests have joined a global Gen Z front of defiance, refusing to be silenced in the face of corruption and impunity.
A year on, what has emerged is not a new station, but a new awareness – that stability under Vučić was never real. It was always borrowed time, mortgaged against the next collapse. Serbia's protests have shown that democracy's renewal may once again come from the streets, and from the young.
A year has passed since the collapse of a concrete canopy at Novi Sad railway station, claiming 16 lives and sparking a wave of protests against corruption, negligence, and government arrogance. The tragedy exposed deep-seated issues within Serbia's government, which has long been characterized by a culture of impunity and patronage.
The regime's success was measured in kilometres of asphalt and track, with President Aleksandar Vučić's ruling party touting new infrastructure projects as election promises. However, the government prioritized speed over safety, with officials suspending permit requirements for key infrastructure projects, including a tunnel that lacked automatic safety monitoring.
Protests have been a regular feature of Serbian politics since 2016, with near-annual waves of demonstrations training ground for future activists. The regime's response has become increasingly repressive, with police beating and chasing peaceful protesters, and nearly a thousand citizens arrested since the uprising began.
Vučić's government is seen as increasingly isolated, relying on Moscow for support while maintaining a fragile balance with Western powers. Russia's grip on Serbia's security apparatus remains underestimated, with intelligence networks operating with impunity and hired thugs borrowing from the Kremlin's playbook to intimidate protesters.
The public mood has shifted decisively against Vučić's regime, with 53% of Serbs now saying the country is moving in the wrong direction. Disillusionment over economic issues, including inflation and stagnant wages, has deepened, while debt remains a pressing concern.
The government's response to the protests has been marked by desperation, including making public transport free as a gesture of largesse. Vučić's Serbia now resembles a Ponzi scheme, borrowing legitimacy through spectacle while deferring collapse.
As the anniversary of the canopy collapse approaches, several paths are possible for Serbia. The opposition and civil society may attempt to negotiate with the regime, but their efforts have been unsuccessful in the past. The students who sparked the protests have joined a global Gen Z front of defiance, refusing to be silenced in the face of corruption and impunity.
A year on, what has emerged is not a new station, but a new awareness – that stability under Vučić was never real. It was always borrowed time, mortgaged against the next collapse. Serbia's protests have shown that democracy's renewal may once again come from the streets, and from the young.