This article is dedicated to Danka Novicki, a beautiful Serbian woman who saw a tired Australian and invited her to watch history unfold.
When the foundations of a place are unsteady all it takes is a single crack for the whole edifice to crumble. In Serbia century old cracks have started to reappear, one growing so wide it has divided the country, talking the lives of 15 people with it. But cracks don’t just emerge suddenly, out of nowhere, they take time to form. In 1964 ‘Serbia’ had just been renamed under the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRY), Tito was the most powerful person in the country, maybe even the region and an awning was built on a new railway station in Novi Sad. 12pm 1st November 2024 , 60 years later, that same awning collapses generating a chain of protests that continue to shackle the state.
I sit writing this article on the top story of a 14-floor building, so close to the blockade that I can hear the kazoos from below, faintly make out conversations spoken in Serbian, listen the static of a megaphone switching on, I can almost smell the exhilaration of the crowd below. Two days ago, I didn’t even know there was a city called Novi Sad, I was restlessly trying to sleep on an overnight bus from Montenegro to Belgrade, on route to my destination of Budapest. Fueled by dreams of the night I decided to pick where i would deliberately stay awake latter that day. Drugstore, an all-vinyl techno set on a Thursday. Sounds great. I scrolled through the details and a sentence caught my eye, 10 words that would change the course of my week ‘all proceeds donated to the students walking to Novi Sad’. I booked the first bus there.
On Thursday hundreds of students started the 80 mile journey from Belgrade to Serbia’s second largest city. Fueled by calls for justice they braved temperatures reaching the minuses, out in the open for everyone to see, huddled on tents or mats constructed out of carboard, stylophone, newspaper, they were determined to reach their destination. At 8pm on Friday they were welcomed into Novi Sad. People cheering them along as they crossed into the next chapter of this unfolding narrative. The following day a blockade was planned for Novi Sad’s three main bridges Zezelijev, Varadin and the appropriately named ‘liberty bridge’. From 15:00 to 18:00 pm people would stop the supply of traffic over the Danube river, uniting at liberty for a 24 hour blockade. I got to witness this rising tide of rebellion, becoming swept up in the middle of it thanks to a lovely woman called Danka.
My spontaneous bus ride meant that I was entering Novi Sad with very limited information. From the graffiti around the city, I managed to figure out what bridges were being blockaded. I wasted two hours trying to find somewhere to store my backpack that was getting heavier by the minute, but after getting rejected by multiple hotels I decided to march on and purse the purpose that bought me here. Protest. Arriving at liberty bridge there was no one there, am I too late? is this the wrong bridge ? is this the right day? I should not have stayed up all night dancing, why did I buy that extra jar of peanut butter, I should have gotten a sim card instead. These were some of the many thoughts circling through my mind when I see a red gloved woman waving at me from her car. Hoping she can provide some guidance I walk over. She speaks limited English and I speak no Serbian so we communicate with few words and many gestures. I explain that I’m from Australia and here for the protest, I watch as her eyes light up and a smile blesses her maroon lips, ‘I have place here’ she says excitedly pointing at an apartment behind us ‘you come’. Her eccentric clothing and red rimmed glasses made me feel instantly at ease, and I could not say no to the opportunity to put my backpack down, even if it was just for the time it takes to drink a cup of coffee.
We go to the top story of the building. ‘Hoooos at my door’ was written on a mat with a little owl on it. She spends some time searching for the right keys and then opens the door to a one bedroom apartment, but it’s not the furnishing that catch my attention rather the balcony. Situated on the corner where the road meets the bridge it provides an incredible view onto where the protest is planned to take place. She tells me the names of all her husband, children and grandchildren and we attempt to talk about the protest sitting on the balcony snacking and playing a game that imvolves us pointing at things and saying the word in our language for it. Kikiriki is peanut, sira is cheese. She uses her glove as a prop to explain how her husband’s father was in the October revolution. When ask about what she does she tells me how she was a professor of Russian literature but now does ‘Aqua paint’ ahhh ‘watercolour?’ I say. ‘Yes bravo !! super !!’. Afterwards she calls her son Boris to help translate. ‘mum is offering for you to stay at the apartment’ he tells me over the phone. ‘Hvala, Hvala’ i say excitedly, thank you, thank you. I missed my bus to Budapest that night.
Walking around Novi Sad there are poster’s everywhere of hands dripping red. 15 people murdered and thousands more angry at a system that continues to fail them. Three months ago, pedestrians waiting at the newly renovated train station suddenly disappeared under a pile of concrete as the sky fell in on them. Now all that remains is the rubble. Multi colored tulips line the path, a symbol of resilience. Candles have been burnt to the wick and spill out onto the street, a small attempt to fix what has been broken. It’s a memorial dedicated to the victims, but who was the perpetrator of this crime? A question that people have been asking for the past three months. The answer provided by students is informed by a structural understanding of how state-based power works, or in this case is not working.
A political party more focused on infrastructure development then public safety, Chinese companies providing foreign funds, institutionalized corruption. The actors involved are numerus, the pursuits of justice limited. On the second day of the protest Danka helped me practice my Serbian ‘Da li govorite englesk ?’ do you speak English? Equipped with my iPhone 7 and a list of sprawling questions I walked the streets trying to collect stories of the protest from the people who were actively writing them. I started talking to a volunteer helping at one of the food stands. Her name is Anastasia Kovacevic. Originally from Jagodina in central Serbia she has been living in Novi Sad for the past three years. Anastasia was explaining a conversation she had with her grandparents.
‘Its not the same if there was a private building and the roof fell off. It’s different. Probably the people who built it would get immediate repercussions. But this is a huge, huge, very costly project by the republic itself, by the country itself, the government itself. So somebody is to blame and we just want the right people, or anyone that is blamed to be held accountable’
What route do you take when those responsible for making the laws are the same ones breaking them? A failed judicial system means that people have turned to the streets to punish those accountable. The state has blood on its hands. Rather than letting them rinse it off the people are exposing how deeply this has stained their country, causing them to see red. The Four key demands of the movement can be found on the Instagram account studenti_u_blokadi.
- Transparency: Publication of documentation on the reconstruction of the Novi Sad railway station
- Stop unbased accusations: Dismiss all charges against arrested and detained protesters
- Justice for attacked students and professors: File criminal charges and prosecute of those responsible for the attacks on students and professors
- Invest in education not corruption: A 20 percent increase in budget allocations for public higher-education institutions in Serbia.
These demands are difficult for the government to meet because they expose a crimson stained picture of corruption. People are starting to see through the governments opaque procedures that they use to secure business deals with powerful contractors, they are calling out the hypocrisy of a state that is currently a candidate for joining the European Union yet continues to dismantle democratic processes. Prime Minister Milos Vucevic and the mayor of Novi Sad Milan Djuric have both resigned, 9 other people have been arrested in conjunction with the incident. A small step on the long bridge to justice. Until all the demands are met in full students are staying out of the classrooms and on the streets.
Sasha Hvajić was marshalling on liberty bridge when I asked if I could interview him. He is a fourth-year student at the Academy of Arts and plays the double bass. I asked questions in English and he replied in Serbian, even though I couldn’t understand what he was saying, emotion was written all over his face and his conviction sung out through his words. Sasha explained how part of the movements success can be attributed to its apolitical nature ‘I think that’s why we persevered, because this has absolutely nothing to do with politics or a particular party, but with the system itself, which is bad and which has brought us to this’ He a believes that ‘we can change something in this country, change a system that is severely flawed’. The cracks of the regime have spread throughout all aspects of life, nationalised corruption means that there is no political resolve to repair any of these widening gaps. Sasha tells me about his involvement in the Serbian art scene and how it has been neglected in this country. ‘We’ve simply lost our culture to the point where students had to react’.
‘We don’t want elections, we want to fight for ourselves’ one sign reads. This movement is not just about responsibility, its bigger than party politics, its is a citizen’s response to years of feeling neglected, silenced, unrepresented. Their systematic approach is working, powerful people are feeling threatened for the first time in a long time. On several occasions activists have been attacked, cars rammed into protests, curses yelled from the street, a student beaten with a baseball bat, academics criminally charged for voicing their opinions. Serbia’s parliamentary democracy starts representing a dictatorship when the rule of law is only applied to those protesting the state. Sasha explains how it uses fear as its main governing force. For years people were frightened into passivity, but now they have been liberated, dismantling the chains of fear that were restricting them for so long. Like a bird release from its cage, they crowd could not stop singing to the tune of liberation.
On the second day of the blockade I sat down with a group of high school students playing uno on the grass. Did you camp here I asked? Referring to the two-man tent behind them, yes they replied. Was it cold ? ‘Oh it was really cold, extremely cold, painfully cold. There were fire pits though so that was nice. Also, some hallucinations, probably I can’t decide if those were real or fake. We saw unicorns’ .Despite my newly acquired ski jacket , walking around that first night of the blockade i could feel the cold.But the energy was contagious. Fuelled by the intrinsic knowledge that what they were doing was right, people stayed awake until the early hours of the morning gathered around whatever available warmth they could find, even if that was just the company of good people.
At night time the blockade transformed from a protest into a celebration, recognising the incredible power of people. Defiant in the face of Serbian winter, the act of being outside was radical within itself. People congregated around campfires and electric heaters, layered in rugs and beanies with mulled wine or tea warming their hands, the music radiating from every corner of this protest festival warming my heart. Wherever you looked sound was being made. I found a group gathered hitting pots and pans with wooden spoons, an acoustic session was happening in the park with a saxophone and guitar. Over at the skate ramp some kids were playing hacky sack to the bouncing sounds of techno.
In a state where people, young people especially, have been systematically silenced, making noise is an act of rebellion. Sasha discusses how for a long-time people didn’t have the courage to say what they think but ‘when they saw us who gave them an example, they freed themselves and actually expressed their opinion, which every citizen should do every day’ he sees this as a ‘fundamental right’ and ‘that’s what we’re appealing for, that’s why we came here’
Anastasia agrees.
‘I think it’s nice, I think it’s good to, you know, finally saying something. Because, for example, my parents, my grandparents, they are all like, oh whatever, we can’t do better, so it’s useless. And I think the younger people are there to change something, because we don’t want to go through the things that our parents or grandparents went through because we don’t have to, we have the power. I think it’s important because of this protest that people see that we really do have the power’.
Not only are activists challenging the system but dismantling commonly held beliefs about the capacity of young people. The youth of Serbia have been infantilised by a government that criticises their lack of independence without an understating of what has contributed to that it. According to the most recent Labour Force Survey data, from 2021, Serbia’s youth unemployment rate aged 15–24 stood at 24.3% (Statista 2024). Taking an average of two years for a young person to find their first stable job after finishing education, in the EU the average time is 6.5 months (European Training foundation, 2021). Restricted of choice many young people are forced to emigrate their country in search of greater opportunity.
Addressing the protests on Thursday Vučić told the nation ‘Our country is under attack, from abroad and from inside,’ reaffirming an ongoing narrative that protesters are working for foreign powers in a great plot to undermine the government. State controlled media has played a large role in the constructed image of young people, framing them as politically motivated agitators rather than everyday people demanding justice. According to the high school students most people in Serbia are in support of the protest, the ones who aren’t are the people whose job depends on remaining silent. One of their dads works for a large tv network in Serbia and he was told that if any of the content portrayed the government in a negative way people would lose their jobs and be sued. Sasha criticises the ‘regime media’ that exists and its deliberate attempts to manipulate public opinion, ‘we get a completely different picture on TV and in newspapers than what is actually reality, and I think that’s very deliberate, it’s not accidental that it’s written that way’.
Activists have been able to challenge the government by circumventing state-controlled media. Most of the information regarding the protests is on social media, the public sphere of the proletariat. As the state increases its control over the reproduction of knowledge activists have been forced to innovate in how they spread the word to the masses. Sasha says these ‘are the only ways we actually reach the public, because we simply don’t have other options’. In many ways it has contributed to the movements growth ‘because anyone can record whatever they want, anyone can share something, its why so many people responded, because they saw it on social media’ , democratising the way information is diffused and received. He empathises how corruption has spread throughout the media’s apparatus, you wouldn’t see these protests on television, In the newspapers they would write that there were only 200 people here last night. In reality, the first estimate was over 100,000.
The blockade was the largest protest yet, numbers that haven’t been seen since the 1960s. With a population of 300,000 people over 1/3 of Novi Sad was represented. Part of the movements power comes from how it has managed to mobilize vast sections of the population. People who would not normally be found in the same room as one another have taken to the streets together. A powerful display of solidarity. Farmers volunteered their time and tractors to protect the protestors, each road blocked with a barricade of mismatched machinery. Veterans of the special operations units marched towards the bridge, adorned with red barrettes and the Serbian flag. Spilling down the streets all around the blockade were various makeshift stalls pilled with food and drink. Soup, stew, pastries, bread, chocolate, chips, fruit. The abundance of strangers generosity was everywhere to be seen. I asked Anastasia where it all comes from, ‘everyone’ she replied. ‘Whoever can bring something, they do’. Professors donating money, local bakers giving bread, residents making massive pots of warm food, farmers providing produce. While interviewing Sasha another volunteer approaches with a carboard box full of pizza ‘we have people dropping of food daily. Honestly, I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s exceptionally good because it keeps us in this’.
I think one of the protests biggest successes is how it has created an entire community of concerned citizens. From how decisions are made to how information is disseminated the whole process is transparent and collective. Reflecting on her favourite moment of the protest Anastasia agrees that one of the most inspiring things is the community forming at universities. Serbia’s university system has been progressively eroded in country where Government expenditure on tertiary education as % of GDPs less than 1% (World Bank, 2025). This has not deterred students from rebuilding their campuses around a culture that means something to them. ‘It’s amazing’ Anastasia says ‘We have movie nights. We have plays. A lot of different people come and just support us. We have a lot of activities where we get to meet people that you don’t usually get to meet because you’re studying’. The shared struggle of systematic change bringing everyone together.
While playing UNO with the group of highschoolers a woman approaches from the apartment block behind us. After a brief conversation in Serbian one of the students leaves with her. ‘she’s asking if we want to charge our phones and stuff. They have offered for us to use their bathrooms and everything. We have had 25 breakfast offers today. They’re so generous’. Comradery inspires generosity. These students are lucky that their school supports the protests, encouraging them to get the best lesson in democracy they will ever learn. I asked about their favourite moment so far. For all of them it was the same.
‘from the smallest one (protest) because it was only at our school. We were honouring the people that died in the tragedy and we stood out in a line in front of our school, not really blocking anything. We were on the sidewalk just to pay our respects. Everyone is quiet there’s maybe 40-60 of us students and some teachers too. And we noticed there was an older woman across the street that also stood still and paid her respects. And then more people joined in and that was really emotional to see how us just standing there , not really blocking or drawing attention to ourselves, moved other people. And then the cars also started stopping and both sides of the street and everyone just kind of stood and it was really powerful’.
These protests are pulling on the heart strings of a nation, people desensitised from years of being spoken to in political jargon are allowing themselves to feel emotion. When I bring up the event that triggered this movements Sasha’s face changes. ‘I was there’ he says in English ‘I saw it’. He expresses sadness for the tragedy but also regret that it took the loss of life for people to stand up for themselves. ‘we were so numb that we didn’t manage to react to the system that was terrible for us, that it had to come to a tragedy at the train station, which, of course, we all condemn, which actually spurred us all to get involved and start’. Since the beginning every protest has had 15 minutes of silence to honour the 15 people killed. It encourages a profound reflection, on what started this movement and what it has grown into. ‘we can be so silent when we need to be’ Anastasia says ‘everyone is basically like crickets’. Everyone stands still, head bowed hands crossed in front, the only sounds to be heard are dogs barking in the distance, even children who are usually bundles of noise feel the gravity of the moment and stay quiet. At the end of the 15 minutes the crowd erupts, clapping, kazoos, whistles, drums. The stillness is shattered but the feeling it inspires remains.
It an incredible thing to share sympathy with thousands of people. 151 cities and tows in Serbia have held protests since November. On the weekend people across the globe held their own rallies to show support from afar. Part of the movements organisational success comes from its decentralised decision making process. Sasha explains:
‘Basically, we gather at the university, we have a plenary session, which is a kind of collegiate body of the students themselves, where we decide on our further actions, the situation at the university, etc. And each faculty actually elects its representative, who is then sent to the university plenary session. So, this is at the university level in Novi Sad, but also at the universities in Belgrade, etc. Together we gather and decide on further actions and what is important, what needs to be changed, how and what’. On the second day of the blockade the vote was put to everyone, students, and citizens alike ‘do we want this blockade to last another three hours?’ The vote was a unanimous yes, everyone raising their hand in solidarity. ‘There is no stopping’ the crowd chants.
A huge banner reading ‘Students will free the world’ Hangs under the bridge. On the first day of the blockade I sit on Danka’s balcony watching the protest unfold. At 1 pm the motor cycles emerged from the tunnels. The steady march of metallic black ants, heads shinning in the bright midday sun. For over 15 minutes the progression rode on. A crescendo of horns littered the air , asking to be heard, demanding people’s attention. A horn is required to break through the thin-lipped silence of Serbia’s politicians. At a press conference on the 29th of January , held in response to the growing protests President Vučić said that ‘order will be restored in Serbia, peace and stability will be preserved’
But what is worth preserving? A return to the old order is not enough for these protestors. Until the regime changes they will rally. After the motorcyclists a trickle of people started making their way across the river. Walking together in pairs, groups of 5 or more, never alone. What started as a steady stream turned into a constant flow, thousands making the passage over the bridge. It seemed to never stop. I was told that people couldn’t congregate on the bridge because the organizers were worried it would collapse. The very foundations giving way. No one expected this many people to turn up, not even those who have attended previous protests and seen the movement grow. Anastasia reflects on the turnout ‘I think everyone is so surprised, honestly, I did not believe it. I did not believe we could do it’.
But they did. On that Saturday protestors achieved something that hasn’t been seen in the country for years. A pure form of democracy. Of the people, by the people, for the people. When the state uses its power for personal gain it stops representing the people it was designed to serve. Citizens have been forced to protest, yelling, honking, singing, screaming, chanting their aspirations for a future Serbia. One that they want to be apart of.
I told Anastasia that it doesn’t matter what happens after this protest they have achieved something incredible. She replies that ‘our professors say that we have already won, that this is a huge win in a way. We did a huge thing that nobody ever expected us to do. Not even ourselves. We didn’t know that we could be this powerful. We know for future situations that we have the power, we can, make things better, make change in our own way or at least start it’. The hardest part is beginning something, but once momentum builds anything is possible. A tidal wave of protest powerful enough to flatten bridges and maybe even dismantle the system.
Link to all the content I gathered over the two days. Share and spread the word to the world !!
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1-155LdpYva3X9nvBAAdYhM2ffEYhNe9Z?usp=sharing
