On March 15, Belgrade witnessed the largest demonstration in Serbia’s history and one of the biggest in Europe in recent years.
Despite numerous obstacles – and there were many, both metaphorical and literal – citizens who had stood by the student protests for months gathered once again to voice their discontent.
The gathering in Belgrade will undoubtedly remain historic, both in scale and significance, as time will ultimately reveal. The scenes accompanying starkly contrasted two Serbias: one brimming with smiles, solidarity, and a hunger for freedom, and the other – isolated behind barbed wire in front of the Parliament, gathered around money and personal interests.
Attempts to Sabotage the Gathering
It was no surprise when the authorities tried to prevent the protest, with Serbian Railways canceling all train services to Belgrade, citing anonymous bomb threats. Several bus companies followed, and on the protest day, the police stopped all public transport in Belgrade.
However, none of this stopped citizens from finding ways to reach the capital. In fact, these sabotage attempts seemed to fuel their determination further, with many walking from various parts of the city – including the injured, the blind, and the elderly. Civic solidarity shone once again as groups quickly organized transportation and assistance.
This historic day carried great expectations and an electrified atmosphere, even though students had repeatedly emphasized that this was not a “final gathering” or a call for government overthrow, but an ongoing struggle that would continue until their demands were met.
“The Night is Darkest Before the Dawn”
“Hundreds of thousands in the streets against Serbian President Vučić,” reported Germany’s Der Spiegel. Estimates suggest that around 800,000 people attended, with some sources citing 300,000, and international media reporting up to 1.5 million. Regardless of the exact figure, the turnout was monumental in a country of six million.
The streets of Belgrade seemed too narrow for the vast crowd, but with the remarkable organization of the protest stewards, the massive crowd moved through the city without major issues. Smiling people of all backgrounds walked together with Serbian flags, and caps, carrying witty and touching banners, united by the shared dream of a free and democratic society.
“Look where we are, look how many of us there are! Your voice matters! We hear your voice! Let’s wake up Serbia together!” declared a student at the protest’s opening, reminding everyone that “the night is darkest before the dawn.”
As the Blockade Choir performed and the crowds continued to move through Belgrade, all slogans merged into one: Pumpaj (Pump it! Go on, don’t stop!), chanted by both young and old. Anyone who woke up in Belgrade that day was lucky to witness history.
A segment of the students march on their way to Belgrade. Photo by Dunja Dopsaj
“What Hurts Them Most is Silence”
During a 15-minute tribute to victims in Novi Sad, the powerful silence of hundreds of thousands of demonstrators was brutally interrupted – by what is believed to be a sound cannon, banned in many countries.
The crowd scattered in panic, while almost simultaneously, bottles and stones were thrown at protesters in another part of the city. “This protest is no longer student-led. Stewards have removed their markers. Everyone is urged to leave the area around the Parliament” students quickly announced. Some sustained injuries and sought medical help.
“The protest has shown who we are and who they are,” someone observed online, as the Ministry of Internal Affairs (MUP) promptly issued a statement denying any involvement in the incident. Students, on the other hand, demanded to know what weapon was used and who deployed illegal means to disperse demonstrators – if not the state itself.
A Parallel Reality in the Park in front of the Parliament
The shocking end to the protest was not entirely unexpected, given that tensions had been stoked for days.
In yet another of their many spin moves, the authorities used a group of so-called Students Who Want to Study, to spend the week leading up to the major protest in an improvised camp in front of the Parliament, demanding a return to classrooms. Even though any student with a university ID could attend the plenum (and vote to end the blockade with a majority vote), Students 2.0 – as they call themselves – gathered around a figure previously seen at pro-Vučić rallies.
From the first day, citizens on social media have been reporting that they recognized local SNS members among the protesters, claiming they were not students. These claims were backed by N1 journalist Mladen Savatović, who, posing as an interested man, learned from a recruiter that paid extras for the “student camp” could earn €50 or more, depending on the group.
This fabricated rebellion, along with the supposed public support it garnered, would insult the students and citizens who’ve been protesting for months, if it weren’t such a clear reflection in the mirror of the government itself. The large police presence guarding the camp, masked individuals, and vulnerable members of society whom journalists and passersby identified among the crowd, painted a grim picture of a system desperate to cling to power, spiraling further into decay.
“The theater of the absurd,” as one professor called it, was soon fenced off as more citizens and reporters were stopping by out of curiosity. Two days before the protest, the park was reinforced with barbed wire and tractors, later, as reported, destroyed by government-controlled hooligans, with police cordons seemingly permitting the act.
Finally, the day after the massive gathering, Students 2.0 packed up and left, leaving piles of garbage and disorder behind them – another sad image of a Serbia barricaded behind barbed wire.
Parliament building protected by fences and tractors. Photo by Gavrilo Andrić
“You Attacked Our Love and Empathy with a Cannon”
It appears that the authorities had planted these “students” like bait, hoping to provoke enraged citizens into causing an incident.
In his evening address, President Vučić called the protest “an attempt at a color revolution,” then congratulated the “security forces” for maintaining “peace and stability,” claiming that “certain incidents were planned by some.” Those “some” were certainly not the students, whose four months of protesting had been entirely peaceful.
“You attacked our love and empathy with a cannon. With every evil act, you only strengthen and solidify the front against you,” students stated, as citizens online expressed support, grateful the protesters refused violence – likely what the authorities hoped for to delegitimize them. Instead, it seems the government’s legitimacy is slipping, exposing perhaps its ugliest face yet: an utter disregard for the victims and the silence that had gathered everyone there in the first place.
Epilogue or Climax?
So, was anything accomplished by the massive rally in Belgrade?
In response to a journalist asking if a climax is to be expected, one student replies that the climax has already happened. And it truly seems so.
The psychological shift has occurred – a loss of fear, a rekindled empathy, and the growing understanding of what the students have been repeating all along: that everyone must take personal action for change to occur, that there’s no “D-day,” no new leader, no magic wand to bring change. Change is already happening every day and it depends on each of us. In that sense, the epilogue of this protest is, ultimately, the climax.
Reminding us that “this is not a 100-meter sprint but a marathon,” the students make it clear that changing not just the face of the system, but the system itself, will take time. However, their determination to finish this race as winners is unmistakable.
As they march toward freedom and justice, the hymn of their protests echoes behind them: Ode to Serbian Awakening, written before the First Serbian Uprising, which grew into a revolution against the Ottomans. Although it was shortlisted as the anthem of Yugoslavia, it never became one – maybe only because the time wasn’t right. Long has it taken, but perhaps the moment for awakening has finally come.
“Arise, Serbia!
You have long been asleep,
Lying in darkness.
Now, wake up
And awaken the Serbs!”
Author: Dijana Knežević, writer, poet, and participant in the current protests.
Photo Credits: Gavrilo Andrić, Lazar Novaković, Dunja Dopsaj
Welcome of students who walked from various parts of Serbia to Belgrade for the protest
