Recently, Kosovo 2.0 published a piece by author Arber Qerka-Gashi criticizing Serbia’s student-led movement, arguing that its solidarity and activism are limited by ethnonationalist attitudes toward Kosovo and Albanians. As someone based in Belgrade, working in civil society and closely following student protests, I felt compelled to refute several claims made in that piece.
Since November 1, 2024, hundreds of thousands of protesters across Serbia have taken to the streets against President Vucic and the SNS-led government to protest against corruption, which they see as a leading cause for the canopy collapse at the Novi Sad railway station and the death of 16 people. The demonstrations spread to more than 30 cities and towns, with the largest protest held in Belgrade on March 15, drawing around 300,000 participants according to independent estimates.
Although primarily led by students, the movement includes people from diverse backgrounds, age groups, and regions. Far from being monolithic, the protests unite participants around shared demands for democracy and justice.
Attempts on social media and in certain commentaries to label Serbian students as nationalists distort reality. Even more concerning, such portrayals fuel a dangerous narrative that these students are no different from Vucic and the SNS. In truth, most protesters avoid nationalist slogans, and the occasional use of such rhetoric neither defines nor discredits the movement.
Reducing a diverse and nationwide mobilization to a caricature of nationalism because a few individuals express nationalist sentiments is both misleading and unfair. To describe the protesters as, in the author’s words, “so-called progressives,” is therefore not only inaccurate but also dismissive.
Qerka-Gashi further argues in his piece that the “No Surrender” (Serbian: Nema predaje) signs continue to be displayed during protests, and “yet there has been little to no critique from Serbian progressive voices.” While such slogans are seen occasionally, students have officially distanced themselves from extremist organizations and nationalist symbols. In January 2025, they issued a statement:
“We, the students participating in the blockade, want to clearly and unequivocally distance ourselves from all extremist organizations and nationalist symbols that appeared during our protests. The presence of their flags and banners at the front lines does not reflect our values or goals.”
There is even a documented case during the blockade of Autokomanda, Belgrade’s busiest intersection, where students asked two men carrying a “No Surrender” flag to leave the gathering. Numerous articles and public statements by liberal thinkers, politicians, and others have strongly criticized the display of “No Surrender” slogans.
However, Qerka-Gashi ignores these nuances entirely. Rather than engaging with the broader dynamics within the movement, he cherry-picks isolated examples and individuals to fit a predetermined narrative, offering no evidence or reflection on the other side of the story.
The author also overgeneralizes the inclusion of minority groups and speculates about the motives of the protestors without any evidence. He argues that the movement seeks to appear “inclusive” as part of a “pseudo-solidarity“ or “neoliberal performance of unity,” implying that its participants are driven by image rather than conviction.
To support his claim, he relies on a single photograph showing a Bosniak woman in a hijab from Novi Pazar standing next to a Serb man wearing a traditional hat (sajkaca). Using one image as evidence of the movement’s “pseudo-solidarity” overlooks the diversity of participants and their motivations, suggesting instead that it represents imitation rather than genuine solidarity.
One person cannot judge others’ solidarity or intentions because people’s motivations are complex and shaped by different experiences and values. Solidarity can take many forms and cannot be understood through appearances. Assuming otherwise risks misunderstanding people’s actions and distorting their true intentions. This kind of reasoning is a logical fallacy, issues that should have been recognized during the first read of editorial review.
Serbian students are labeled nationalists by both the Belgrade regime and some international observers. Yet when they demonstrate solidarity and unity, the SNS says they are betraying Serbia, while commentators like Qerka-Gashi dismiss their actions as pretentious, accusing them of fake progressivism and false solidarity. Clearly, both assessments cannot be correct.
In reality, the participation of minority communities in the protests reflects genuine acts of solidarity that go beyond symbolic gestures or photographs. Students from Novi Pazar State University, most of whom are Bosniaks, have consistently shown support for their colleagues from Belgrade, Novi Sad, and Kragujevac. They carried their national flag with pride alongside their Serbian peers, a gesture criticized by the SNS regime, while locals offered food and accommodation, including halal meals. These acts embody true solidarity and mutual respect within society.
The claim about the lack of Albanian participation in the protests is true, but the reasoning is flawed. Unlike Novi Pazar, Albanian-majority towns in Serbia do not have universities. Many Albanian youth also choose to study in Pristina, Tirana, or Skopje, where courses are offered in Albanian.
Personal choice may play a role as well. For instance, other minority groups, such as Hungarians and Bosniaks, have regularly participated but the Albanian minority may not feel the need to join. Whatever the reason may be, the student movement has consistently emphasized that everyone is welcome to join, without exception.
Labeling Serbian students as nationalists ignores their year-long struggle and civic courage. Serbian students are not nationalists, and where nationalism appears, it is quickly rejected. By attacking students instead of supporting their democratic struggle, critics risk undermining one of the rare grassroots movements in Serbia not seen for decades. These students are the real catalysts for change in Serbia.
Truth is never simple, and online and media narratives often miss deeper complexities. As writers and activists, we have the duty to inform, not distort; to challenge assumptions, not reinforce them. Every story should be approached with care, curiosity, and respect, remembering that hundreds of thousands of people cannot and must not be reduced to a single narrative.
The Kosovo 2.0 article begins with the question, “What does solidarity truly mean?” In my view, it means showing empathy and respect to those fighting for a better future. The recent protests in Serbia, though imperfect, have shown glimpses of genuine solidarity that deserve to be recognized and nurtured.
