November 1st, 2024, seemed like an ordinary Friday in Serbia. But as people were finishing their work and preparing for the weekend, news started to emerge about an accident in Novi Sad. Initial reports said the city’s railway station canopy had collapsed, injuring several people. However, the true scale of the tragedy became apparent soon after as the number of casualties began to rise.

The train station had been renovated mere months before, so the collapse could not have been just an unfortunate incident. Most people promptly blamed rampant corruption, negligence, and poor governance, and calls grew for holding the individuals responsible to account. Anyone could have been under that collapsed roof, and besides, there is always a physical or metaphorical canopy somewhere in Serbia which could collapse at any moment on unsuspecting bystanders.

There is always a canopy somewhere in Serbia which could collapse at any moment on unsuspecting bystanders.

As people nervously followed rescue efforts, articles published months earlier about the complete renovation of the railway station mysteriously disappeared from numerous media websites within just a few hours. That very day, Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić claimed that the entire station had been renovated – except for that 60-year-old canopy. However, photographs soon surfaced that contradicted his statement, showing work had been done on the canopy, with new parts added to its original structure.

In fact, the Novi Sad railway station building had been reconstructed not once, but twice within just a few years. The first reopening happened in 2022 when the Serbian president and his Hungarian counterpart Viktor Orbán – who are close political allies – arrived by train from Belgrade in Novi Sad to open the inter-city rail line. Then, in July 2024, the Minister of Construction, Transport, and Infrastructure, Goran Vesić, once again opened the renovated railway station building. Later, it was revealed that the station had been reopened without a usage permit or technical inspection, indicating that various parties – from the highest political leadership to local firms, Chinese contractors, and the French company in charge of supervising the project – bore responsibility for the tragedy. Then, in the days following the incident, several experts who had previously warned about the substandard quality of the reconstruction said that their concerns had fallen on deaf ears. They pointed out that the renovation was rushed and that responsible institutions had failed to act on their warnings.

On 2 November, 2024, members of the Green-Left Front party left red handprints on the Serbian government building with the message, “Your hands are covered in blood.” And as the days passed, public anger only grew. Shocked and enraged at the authorities’ arrogance and their attempts to shirk responsibility and cover up the truth, the Serbian people started the largest protest movement in the country’s history, radically changing its social and political landscape in the process. And the red handprint became the symbol of the movement.

Demanding accountability

Serbia is no stranger to mass protests. The ruling Serbian Progressive Party has faced numerous demonstrations in recent years – from protests against the construction of the Belgrade Waterfront project to those against electoral misconduct, political violence, and mass shootings, as well as environmental rallies denouncing destructive hydroelectric plants and lithium mining plans.  These protests were primarily limited to periodic marches, and what they all had in common was a call for nonviolence. The government’s strategy towards these movements was to ignore them until their energy waned while deflecting responsibility for its unpopular policies.

The initial protests after the Novi Sad tragedy appeared to follow this familiar pattern, sparking debates about whether demonstrators should abandon strict nonviolent methods – especially given that the system itself routinely perpetrates violence against citizens. Acts such as spilling faeces in front of Novi Sad’s city hall gained public support. Meanwhile, most opposition parties, accustomed to traditional modes of political engagement and weakened by years of attacks from the ruling party and an entrenched apolitical narrative, found themselves sidelined. Citizens, students, and workers from some sectors began organising independently, gathering in the streets and blocking traffic at 11:52 AM – the time the canopy collapsed in Novi Sad – to observe 15 minutes of silence in honour of the victims. At first, these protests were staged every Friday, but then they became a daily occurrence.

As students and professors from the University of Arts in Belgrade peacefully blocked traffic one Friday, they were attacked and beaten by multiple individuals. This attack followed other assaults on students and peaceful protesters, including attempts to run them over with cars or provoke physical altercations. Footage from these incidents revealed that many attackers were affiliated with the Serbian Progressive Party and held public office, indicating that the violence was orchestrated. When Serbian institutions once again failed to respond, students from the Faculty of Dramatic Arts, followed by those from other faculties, decided to take a more radical step: occupying their campuses and remaining there until their demands were met. Like mushrooms after the rain, student blockades spread across Serbia, and by mid-December 2024, nearly every university in the country was occupied.

United in their fight, students issued four straightforward demands:

1. The release of all documentation related to the Novi Sad railway station reconstruction, some of which is currently inaccessible to the public.
2. Confirmation from authorities of the identities of individuals suspected of physically attacking students and professors, initiation of criminal proceedings against them, and their dismissal if they hold public office.
3. Dismissal of criminal charges against arrested and detained students participating in protests, as well as the cessation of ongoing legal proceedings.
4. A 20-per cent increase in government funding for state universities.

As of the publication of this text, none of these demands have been met.

A maturing movement

In the past, student blockades in Serbia were mostly confined to social sciences faculties and focused on student welfare and higher education issues. The current occupations are the first since the 1968 student protests to demand broader societal change, and at the heart of them lie student plenums – now being utilised more robustly than ever before. 

Student plenums of this scale are unprecedented in Serbia and serve as a powerful example of how radical alternatives to authoritarianism and hierarchy can function. With their directly democratic method of organisation and decision-making, these bodies have preserved and propelled the spirit of resistance. All major decisions are made in these plenums, and students from different faculties coordinate joint actions together. One such decision was to rotate student representatives in media appearances to prevent the emergence of individual leaders and instead promote collective decision-making and leadership through practice.

With their directly democratic method of organisation and decision-making, student plenums have preserved and propelled the spirit of resistance.

This decentralised mode of organisation confused the Serbian Progressive Party, its media, and its controlled state mechanisms. Without clear leaders to target in their tabloids, and with widespread support for student blockades and protests, authorities were unable to deploy brutal or effective repression. Support for the student movement grew rapidly, with citizens bringing food to occupied faculties and growing turnout at protests.

The first major protest after the canopy collapse, staged by students on 22 December, 2024, gathered over 100,000 people. But this was just the beginning: Throughout January, February, and March, students, supported by the wider society, held massive demonstrations across Serbia, drawing over 100,000 participants in Novi Sad, Niš, and Kragujevac. The largest protest, which took place on 15 March in Belgrade, saw as many as 325,000 people in attendance, according to the Public Meeting Archive, an organisation monitoring crowd sizes.

This widespread popular support was largely due to the protesters’ clear demands, strategic organisation, and grassroots mobilisation. Students walked or biked hundreds of kilometres to protests, engaging citizens in small towns along the way, where they were welcomed as liberators. Many prominent figures, both Serbian and international, endorsed the protests, including tennis legend Novak Djokovic, Irish singer and political activist Bob Geldof, American pop icon Madonna, and French philosophers Alain Badiou and Jacques Rancière. The students also distanced themselves from party politics, which gained them further support with Serbia’s politically estranged public.

Foreign media often draw parallels between the ongoing protests in Serbia and those in Slovakia, Georgia, and Romania. However, there are key differences between these movements, as the protests in Serbia neither have a strong pro-European element nor are driven by anti-Russian sentiments; rather, they are focused on internal issues such as corruption and the rule of law. Furthermore, European Union flags are almost non-existent at protests in Serbia, and a significant portion of citizens do not perceive the EU as friendly. This is primarily due to the support that the European People’s Party – the single largest force in the European Parliament – provides to President Vučić, as demonstrated by his meetings with European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen. Because of these exchanges, the support expressed by European parliamentarians from the Greens, the Left, and the liberals for Serbian students and citizens has gone largely unnoticed. Additionally, concerns over lithium exploitation in Serbia and the EU’s support for mining projects have led some citizens to view the bloc negatively, fearing that their country will become a sacrificial zone for someone else’s green transition.

Attacked, but standing

As the protests rage on in Serbia, authorities have been trying to discredit the student movement. “Color revolution” has become a new keyword in the vocabulary of pro-government media and high-ranking public officials, a trend initiated by President Vučić. However, the current situation in Serbia bears no resemblance to the so-called colour revolutions that occurred in Eastern Europe. These movements were typically linked to electoral fraud, but the uprising in Serbia has no direct connection to elections. Nevertheless, the Serbian president continues to insist that an attempted colour revolution is underway – one that has been pre-planned and funded from abroad, though he never specifies which countries are allegedly involved.

The narrative of colour revolutions usually involves branding anyone opposing the current regime as a foreign agent or, at the very least, a domestic traitor. The first to be targeted with such attacks were non-governmental organisations. Pressure escalated after Donald Trump’s administration decided to slash funding for USAID projects, with Serbian police using this development as an opportunity to raid the offices of some of the largest NGOs to search for evidence of a possible abuse of funds. Opposition political parties and activists have also been under constant attack and are routinely labelled as enemies seeking to destabilise Serbia. Currently, several activists and political party members are imprisoned based on charges stemming from illegally wiretapped conversations, while some of those responsible for the tragedy in Novi Sad remain free.

At the same time, social tension in Serbia is continuously rising, and despite the government’s claims to the contrary, president Aleksandar Vučić and his associates bear the greatest responsibility for this. Although they point their fingers at others, they are the ones normalising and encouraging a culture of violence. Today, acts such as a knife attack on the dean of the Faculty of Philosophy in Niš, students being beaten, and vehicles trying to run protesters over are downplayed, while throwing eggs on the ruling party’s officials is framed as the ultimate act of violence.

Despite the government’s claims to the contrary, president Aleksandar Vučić and his associates bear the greatest responsibility for rising social tension.

Serbian citizens have somewhat grown accustomed to crackdowns, yet they were still shocked by an incident during the massive protest in Belgrade on March 15. While silently paying tribute to victims at a train station in Novi Sad, a horrific sound broke the silence, triggering panic and forcing people to flee, which caused demonstrators to fall over each other and nearly ended in a stampede.. The government was accused of using a military-grade sonic cannon – a weapon banned by Serbian law – with reports emerging of protesters seeking medical assistance following the incident. But in typical fashion, authorities first denied possessing such a weapon, and when confronted with photographic evidence proving otherwise, they shifted to claiming it had never been used and that the panic was purely psychological.

Indeed, it appears that panic has spread; only it is not among the people, but rather in the ranks of the Serbian Progressive Party and its officials. In their desperation, Serbian authorities continue to escalate social tensions, possibly hoping for the situation to spiral out of control. This way, they could justify the use of open violence, impose authoritarian measures – such as a state of emergency – and further restrict civil liberties.

Hope amid uncertainty

According to the Center for Research, Transparency and Accountability, almost 1,700 protests took place in 378 different locations across Serbia in March alone. This scale of civil unrest is unprecedented in Serbia’s recent history. But what comes next?

Serbia is still without a government after the National Assembly accepted the resignation of former prime minister Milos Vucevic in a meeting on March 18. During the same session, the prime minister’s resignation was the last of over 60 agenda items, including controversial measures such as the ratification of a project related to lithium exploitation. Some opposition parties attempted to obstruct the session in protest, questioning how a leaving government could propose new laws while avoiding discussions about accountability for the tragedy in Novi Sad. Smoke bombs were ignited, fire extinguishers were discharged, and physical altercations between opposition and ruling party representatives ensued, prompting security to intervene and restrict opposition MPs’ access to the session.

Meanwhile, turmoil has also spilled over into city assemblies, where ruling party councillors frequently hide behind police and private security agents. Citizen access to these sessions has been restricted and transparency reduced, and opposition councillors have sometimes been physically stopped – or even beaten – while trying to attend.

Going forward, nearly all opposition parties support the formation of a transitional government to solve Serbia’s political crisis. This temporary administration would fulfil students’ demands, ensure fair and transparent election conditions, and compensate striking education workers for withheld wages. Still, most citizens are putting their hopes in students, who have emerged as the most legitimate and powerful social force while continuing to distance themselves from political parties. And for now, these students are calling on citizens to self-organise and take initiative through assemblies similar to student plenums.

These assemblies have begun forming, and citizens are gradually relearning democracy at the local level. Serbian protesters’ demands still have not been met, but the ongoing protests are a testament to civil society’s resilience and present a positive step towards achieving democratic accountability. Meanwhile, time is running out for the authorities: by April 18, a new government must be formed, or parliamentary elections will have to be called. Given the drastic changes in the country’s political landscape, forming a new government would be legal but illegitimate, as citizens clearly no longer trust the Serbian Progressive Party. On the other hand, opposition political and social actors are likely to boycott and possibly obstruct an election due to a perception that the process would be undemocratic.

This apparent stalemate, however, is probably only temporary. The situation is evolving rapidly, and any prediction can quickly become outdated. “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen,” Lenin once said. What is certain is that today, Serbia stands on the brink of history.