Morning Storm Over the Old Continent

On the clear morning of May 27, the air over Belgrade was charged with restless energy: the first rays of sunlight skated across the cobblestones as the city was shaken by a roar of demanding voices. Civic initiatives descended upon Prime Minister Ana Brnabić’s office with a request to disclose whom they consider “our own” and whom they deem “outsiders” among the candidates for the Regulatory Council for Media, reminding everyone that transparency is not optional but the very foundation of democracy (N1). Almost simultaneously in Novi Sad, the dean of the Faculty of Law, in a gentle yet firm manner, urged professors and students to refrain from partisan campaigning during lectures, underscoring the importance of safeguarding academic freedom (N1). Though separated by hundreds of kilometers, these two scenes spoke to a single impulse: society refuses to stay silent.

Yet citizens’ fearlessness collides with a reality where the labels “insider” and “outsider” become stamps, and deviating from the official line risks one’s career. The Minister for Labour Rights and activist Bojan Janković bluntly states, “When you are labeled ‘our own’ or ‘outsider,’ it means your freedom of expression no longer exists”—and his report on N1 reverberates as a loud signal that fear is once again being wielded as a tool of power (N1). 

Meanwhile, the “Srce” think tank publishes a chilling statistic: the country loses more than 46,000 people each year to emigration and low birth rates, and according to the report on Nova.rs, relevant ministries seem keener on preparing television appearances than on implementing real support for young families and rural doctors (Nova.rs).

Riding the wave of these anxieties, the student community refused to remain on the sidelines. The Faculty of Dramatic Arts sent an open letter to the Prime Minister demanding protection for postgraduate student Vanja Šibalić from constant attacks and respect for every student’s academic rights, noting that allegations of conflicts of interest and manipulation—rumors rife with innuendo—remain nothing more than baseless insinuations without a single piece of evidence (Nova.rs). 

In Užice’s municipal assembly, trust in the authorities crumbled even faster: deputies failed to approve the agenda due to disputes over the interests of one ruling Serbian Progressive Party member, who was simultaneously serving as chairman of the local “Ravni” community council—a textbook example of how personal ambition can undermine public institutions (Nova.rs).

When Zorana Mihajlović, a former minister now turned columnist, compares students to the Luddites of the 19th century—who blamed machines for unemployment—she not only condemns the youth but equates calls for change with “pseudo-anarcho-totalitarian ideologies” (Nova.rs).  Ironically, words intended to quash the protests only add fuel to the fire: students have plenty to be proud of, while those trying to silence them have fewer and fewer counterarguments.

Amid these internal storms, Serbia hasn’t forgotten its external course. Greece has begun modernizing the Evzoni crossing, widening control lanes and upgrading infrastructure to speed up the passage of Serbian tourists—a move that not only eases citizens’ travel but promises to strengthen cross-border economic ties in the long run (Nova.rs). 

Meanwhile, the “quiet prison” of Padinska Skela suddenly found itself in the spotlight: Nova.rs published a shocking exposé on the psychological and physical torment inflicted on 75-year-old Stanimir Brajković by his cellmates. Three men are charged with his murder—his body bore multiple fractures, bruises, and even signs of sexual violence (Nova.rs). If the state cannot protect even its prisoners, how can one trust it to deliver justice at the scale of the nation?

At the same time, nature sends its own warnings: Al Jazeera Balkans reports a catastrophic decline in Serbia’s bee population—extreme droughts and pollen shortages have halved pollinator numbers in a single season, threatening future harvests and driving up food prices (Al Jazeera Balkans). There is no politics in these climatic whims, yet their victims—gardeners and farmers—are increasingly asking: who will answer for the fields?

The thread running through our times is the struggle for transparency and justice, the balance between sovereignty and European prospects. Letters and petitions, protest marches and media exposés merge into a singular chorus of a society fighting for its right to information and security. And despite everything, Serbia does not stay silent: it shouts, writes, and demands, like a gentle breeze that heralded a true storm already raging in the hearts of its citizens.