In Serbia, on May 1, 2025, six months had passed since the collapse of the canopy at the Novi Sad Railway Station, where 14 people were killed on the spot and two more later died in hospital. Two days later, on May 3, the country marked two years since the mass shooting at Vladislav Ribnikar Elementary School in Belgrade, when a thirteen-year-old student killed a security guard and nine fellow students. The following day marked two years since the mass shooting in the villages Dubona and Malo Orašje, near Mladenovac, where a 21-year-old attacker killed eight and wounded 12 others, mostly young people.
The authorities responded to these tragedies—stemming from corruption and systemic failures—primarily with damage control: sacrificing pawns from within their ranks, launching spin campaigns, and applying a carrot-and-stick approach to citizens demanding accountability. Over time, however, the stick became central, while the carrot grew increasingly rare.
Still, the student protests that followed the collapse of the station canopy reshaped the Serbian socio-political landscape in unprecedented ways. The question remains whether this period will be remembered as a turning point marked by political change through social catharsis, or as a missed opportunity to overthrow a deeply corrupt regime through an ethical revolution. Whatever the outcome, key societal actors—the University, the Church, Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts, the media, and influential individuals—will be remembered either as those who contributed to change or, through support of the regime or their silence, as those who hindered it.
A New Mode of Resistance
Within just a few months, the students managed to significantly challenge the dominant value system, largely resist the manipulations of a regime that had long neutralized every “new face” and idea, and awaken in citizens values once thought lost. They may also be discovering a new mode of resistance against the resilient spin dictatorships emerging across the globe.
As Sergei Guriev and Daniel Treisman explain in Spin Dictators, traditional dictatorships have given way to spin dictatorships, where key tools are media manipulation, carefully crafted popularity, and fake democracy. Spin dictators—whether Orbán, Erdoğan, or Serbia’s President Vučić—tend to either censor or co-opt their critics. Their core challenge lies in keeping citizens uninformed; public awareness undermines their carefully constructed popularity and can trigger broader civic mobilization.
What have the students—previously dismissed as apathetic and poorly informed—achieved in Serbia? For months, thousands of young people united in solidarity, thoughtful and persistent, eloquent and sacrificial, have found themselves in the streets and on the roads. They walked from town to town across the entire country, and then through Europe, often pushing the limits of physical endurance, spreading their struggle, fighting for the common good, and mapping out the space of freedom. They became a social alarm for collective solidarity and empathy, a call for justice and truth.
Leaderless Revolution
What distinguishes this movement is its unique structure. None of the protesters stands out individually; the same face never appears in media more than once or twice. There is no leader—thus avoiding the regime’s smear campaigns while also addressing the local need for a savior and emphasizing systemic change as the primary goal. Every decision is adopted by the plenary through a simple majority, with passionate debates continuing until everyone has spoken.
These students succeeded in breaking down inter-ethnic prejudices, uniting many from the former Yugoslavia, and overcoming ideological differences—dismantling the belief that conversations between ideologically opposed groups are impossible. As Professor Rastislav Dinić from Niš observed, it was moving to see the thoughtfulness between students from Novi Pazar, where the majority are Muslim, and the rest of Serbia, as they carefully observed both Orthodox and Islamic fasting periods.
However, after several months, the issue of political articulation became serious. The regime had successfully cultivated widespread disgust towards politics and political parties, portraying itself as the “state” while presenting other political groups as power-seekers. A serious question emerged: how to translate this tremendous energy for change into concrete results?
As nothing changed and it became clear their demands would not be met, the students moved beyond their initial resistance to political engagement. They are now calling for early parliamentary elections and preparing an electoral list of people they trust to fulfill their demands—a significant shift in strategy that signals a new phase in their movement.
The Church’s Internal Divide
University professors overwhelmingly supported their students, as did representatives of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts. But the Serbian Orthodox Church—historically one of the most trusted institutions in Serbia—has shown a complex and divided response.
This question is particularly significant given the deep religiosity of many protesters. According to one unpublished study, the religiosity of students participating in the plenum, measured on a scale from -2 to +2, stands at +1.25—higher than their sense of national belonging. This generation, unlike their parents, received religious education in schools since its introduction in 2001.
The message from Church leadership has been that the Church should not defend particular interests, positioning itself as suprapolitical. This stance raises profound theological questions: What constitutes “the common good” as understood by church dignitaries? Can the Church truly heal divisions by equating perpetrator and victim? As Professor Anna Grzymała-Busse notes, church statements calling for patience during social unrest often uphold the status quo.
The division within the Church has been striking. While the official stance has been restrained, many within the Church have taken sides. Metropolitan Grigorije emerged as a prominent supporter, stating: “What the students in Serbia are doing right now is one of the purest, most moral political initiatives that has emerged in our country. It is authentic and grounded in the sincere interest and commitment of young people to justice.”
In contrast, Metropolitan David published a text on the official Church website comparing protesters to “Serbian Ustaše” and “new demons of Lubyanka.” The response was immediate—six bishops distanced themselves from this letter and expressed support for the students, though tellingly, their statement was not published on the official Church website.
These conflicting positions within the Church reflect a deeper struggle over the Church’s role in civil society. While the faithful children of priests participated in student blockades, the institutional Church struggled with how to respond to a movement seeking justice against corruption rather than political power.1
The response to today’s uprising in Serbia will shape the moral right to participate in rebuilding a broken and divided society tomorrow. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote to a friend during World War II, if he did not live through those difficult times with his people, he would have no right to take part in the renewal of Christian life in Germany after the war. Similarly, the choices made by institutions and individuals during this critical moment will determine their legitimacy in Serbia’s future.
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