Belgrade, Serbia — For 160 days and counting, Serbia has been gripped by one of the most sustained protest movements in its modern history. From student blockades to the mass occupation of public squares and institutions, thousands have taken to the streets to demand accountability, democracy, and the resignation of President Aleksandar Vučić. Yet as the protest enters its sixth month, one question dominates: is it working?
Some critics, both within and outside Serbia, point to the fact that Vučić remains in power and ask whether protest can bring real change. A Hungarian commenter put it bluntly: “Make it effective please or we are fked.” Another echoed the sentiment with skepticism: “If you think protesting Orbán will change anything here, I have some bad news for you.”
But such cynicism, while understandable, misses the broader picture.
This is not just protest—it’s disruption. Serbia isn’t merely experiencing symbolic marches or passive resistance. Students have blockaded state media, cutting off the government’s propaganda machine for days—resulting in real concessions, such as a re-election of the media’s regulatory body (REM). Universities and faculties are shut down, effectively bringing the higher education system to a halt. Entire institutions are joining the wave of civil disobedience.
More importantly, the fear has cracked. Protesters report that people are confronting corrupt local officials, defying threats, and openly criticizing figures of power they once feared. “My pro-Vučić father-in-law has announced he’s not voting anymore,” one user shared, highlighting the slow but real erosion of the ruling party’s social grip.
The notion that nothing tangible has been achieved doesn’t reflect reality. A commenter summarized the momentum:
“160 days of continuous energy, largest gathering in country’s history. Reconciliation with minorities, collapse of respect for both Russia and the EU, and most importantly—people have started standing up.”
According to protestors, the government has already fallen once—a reference to the reshuffling of ministries amid mounting pressure—and the replacement administration “won’t make it past June.” Even if Vučić technically holds office, his power is reportedly dwindling. He’s rarely seen in public, allegedly due to fears of public humiliation. “He can’t even go public out of fear of being hit by an egg,” one commenter quipped.
Historically, regime changes don’t happen overnight. As one voice pointed out: “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Movements that succeed are often slow, steady, and painful. The situation in Serbia today bears resemblance to other global turning points: mass unrest that first broke the psychological chains of authoritarianism before cracking the political ones.
One commenter referenced Mustafa Kemal Atatürk to frame the moment in bolder terms:
“Gentlemen, power and sovereignty are not given by debate—they are taken. Today, the Turkish Nation has reclaimed that sovereignty. This is an accomplished fact.”
And indeed, Serbia’s protestors seem to understand that. While the president remains in office, the balance of legitimacy has already begun to tilt. Even among former loyalists, support is wavering. Meanwhile, the international community is increasingly sidelined in public opinion—many Serbians now view both the EU and Russia with suspicion and contempt.
A final counterpoint perhaps answers the central question best:
“If protests are useless, why are the regimes so frantic to prevent them? Why use gangsters and violence to stop something you claim is meaningless?”
Serbia’s protestors aren’t just shouting into the void—they’re shaping a new national consciousness. Whether regime change comes next month or next year, the real shift may already be underway.