Despite being one of Europe’s longest-serving leaders — only Aleksandr Lukashenko, Vladimir Putin, and Albania’s Edi Rama have been in office longer — Serbia’s Aleksandar Vucic rarely attracts much media attention; even though he has been described as an “autocratic strongman” in these very pages (and, indeed, in many others).
Although his model of governance may closely resemble the model that was, until recently, employed by Viktor Orban in neighbouring Hungary, Vucic hasn’t faced anywhere near the amount liberal scorn that was directed towards his Hungarian counterpart. This is, at least to some extent, because he has been able to offset a general disregard for democratic norms with symbolic gestures that soften his harder edges, like appointing a lesbian prime minister. He’s one of Europe’s wiliest political operators, but faces his most difficult electoral challenge yet as he seeks to extend his 12–year rule later this month.
Active in national politics since the early 1990s, Vucic has spent more than half his life on the political frontlines in Serbia. Starting as a minor minister in Slobodan Milosevic’s final government, he spent 12 long years in opposition before returning to power as defence minister in 2012. He made the step up to prime minister two years later, before switching to the presidency in 2017. Now that he’s served his two constitutionally-limited terms in that role, he’s standing for prime minister again in a snap election that takes place on October 25. In that time, Vucic and his ruling Serbian Progressive Party [SNS] have completely dominated the country’s politics by following a similar blueprint to the one pioneered by Orban in Hungary: state institutions have been filled with obedient loyalists and much of the media has been bought up by government-aligned oligarchs, who ensure friendly coverage. Resultantly, Serbia is now frequently categorised as a “hybrid regime” or “electoral autocracy” by outside observers.
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His government has been largely untroubled by a divided and ineffective political opposition during its time in office, but the upcoming election looks to be the most competitive since SNS first seized power 14 years ago. The country has been caught in a period of crisis for the past two years following the fatal collapse of a newly-renovated train station canopy in Serbia’s second city, Novi Sad. The incident claimed 16 lives and allegations emerged that the disaster was caused by a combination of shoddy construction work, a rushed completion schedule, and a corrupt public procurement process. This unleashed a tidal wave of public anger.
The race could be nail-bitingly close
Vast protests of a scale not seen since the 1990s swept the country as people demanded the resignation of the government. Although initially led by opposition figures and other civil society groups, the centre of gravity quickly shifted to students at the University of Belgrade, who began blockading faculty buildings and calling for the country’s entire political system to be rebuilt from the ground up. Inspired by their youthful idealism and a widespread dissatisfaction with Serbia’s opposition parties, the public turned to the students for leadership, who from that point forward began issuing demands for change and organising regular demonstrations blockading motorways and key urban arteries across the capital. In the 23 months since the start of the crisis, the protests have grown into a full-blown political movement with its own party list that will stand against SNS in this month’s election as Serbia experiences something akin to its very own May 1968 moment.
It’s difficult to predict the outcome of the upcoming vote because Serbian politics is utterly opaque. Polling data is unreliable, the electoral system is unfair, the government uses underhanded tactics to put its thumb on the scale, and voter cynicism means that turnout rarely ever rises above 60 percent. As such, it is impossible to know how many protesters will actually show up to the ballot box and how many of them only go to demonstrations to express their anger. Yet Vucic has been unusually forthcoming in his recognition of the challenge he faces and publicly referenced one poll that puts the students ahead of the ruling party, urging his supporters to vote. Cuts have also been made to the number of active international polling stations, presumably to stifle the diaspora vote. This suggests that the race could be nail-bitingly close.
Serbs are a deeply cynical people and faith in the transformative power of politics could hardly be lower
The two campaigns present two vastly different offers to the electorate. Vucic, as per usual, promises managerial competence and economic growth that will raise living standards, whereas the student movement’s aims can only be described as a peaceful revolution. They promise to make a clean break with the past and root out the corruption and political patronage that has been such a defining feature of Serbian politics for decades. This will be done, they claim, by driving corrupt officials out of public life, recovering their illicit wealth, and replacing party loyalty with professional expertise as the basis of public administration. The overall ambition is to make Serbia a “normal” European country, with transparent institutions, accountable government, and rule of law. This might sound like a winning proposition to outsiders, but in Serbia there’s a real risk that it might be dismissed as unrealistically naive. Serbs are a deeply cynical people and faith in the transformative power of politics could hardly be lower.
The reality is that our country’s political culture and collective psychology is profoundly unsuited to the demands of democratic governance. At a time when Western Europe was living through the renaissance, Serbia languished under the brutal rule of the Ottoman empire. Not only did our ancestors refuse to convert to Islam, but everyday acts of defiance became a way of undermining our colonial masters: hiding wealth from tax collectors, dodging levies, sheltering fugitives, smuggling across borders, and using family, village and church networks to evade the long arm the state. Unfortunately for us, the Ottoman occupation endured for so long this anti-social tendency eventually became part of our national character. Cheating the system remains a common practice, which might be why our society is so low on trust and contentiousness today.
On top of this, democracy requires a culture of dialogue, which we simply never had the opportunity to develop. After driving out the Turks in the early 1800s, Serbia was governed by a succession of absolutist rulers through Karadjordje to the Obrenovic dynasty, right up to Josip Broz Tito and Milosevic in the era of socialist Yugoslavia. Centralised authority and clannish networks of power are what we’re used to. Democracy, by contrast, isn’t just an electoral process but a way of managing social and political relations between individual citizens on an everyday basis. A democratic society isn’t formed by electing the right leadership but developed by the members of that society through their deeds. Serbs have minimal experience of this and our current political settlement is very much in line with the historical norm of our nation. The student movement can offer democracy in theory, but making it work in practice is an altogether different proposition.
Essentially, the students are asking the country to gamble on the unknown. There are many people who hysterically claim that things couldn’t possibly be worse. Though they definitely could — indeed, we’ve already experienced that in my lifetime — they will happily roll the dice. But there’s also a lot of ordinary people for whom change represents extraordinary risk.
SNS is one of the largest political parties in all of Europe and has been reported to have upwards of 700,000 card-carrying members, even though not all of these are committed partisans or even particularly political. It is an open secret that membership of the party is a prerequisite for public sector employment, so a sizable number only signed up to improve their job prospects. This arrangement means that the livelihoods of entire families are tied up with the fortunes of the ruling party, which creates a huge incentive to put any personal qualms aside and back the status quo. In a second world country like ours, political ideals are luxury beliefs and few can afford to vote against their material interests, particularly when public sector jobs offer reasonable benefits and stable employment.
On top of all the structural advantages that favour SNS, the students have arguably chosen a strange time to try and convince Serbs to make a bet on democracy. Anyone who pays attention to current affairs will know that the West is currently undergoing its own crisis of faith in a system that no longer delivers rising living standards, the possibility of change, or societal cohesion. The average voter isn’t foolish enough to think that Serbia could ever become like Denmark and few people look at neighbouring EU members like Bulgaria or Romania with any sort of envy. We will soon find out whether the students have chosen the right strategy. But their success will ultimately depend on whether or not they manage to drive a historically high turnout among non-voters. These are the true kingmakers in Serbian politics and I suspect that their participation will be entirely driven by the intensity of their desire to give the government a bloody nose. This would be far more in line with our national character.
