Amid profound shifts in power and governments across the world, they are embodying the hope and power that lies within grassroots movements and activism.
A protester faces off with a Serbian police officer showing red-painted hands symbolizing government neglect and mismanagement in Belgrade on November 3, 2024.
(Photo: Andrej Isakovic/AFP via Getty Images)
Ksenija Scahill
Mar 27, 2025
Common Dreams
On the corner of West 25th Street and Broadway, a sea of blood-stained hands gather silently amid the noises of Midtown Manhattan. As tourists and locals rush across the intersection, some attempt to decipher the demonstration. A sign in Serbian Cyrillic reads, "Love for students, the ocean divides us, the fight connects us." After 15 minutes, the crowd breaks their silence, embracing one another through a shared goal, to show support for the students of Serbia.
This demonstration is part of a larger student-led resistance sweeping Serbia over the past three months. After the deadly collapse of a canopy at a newly renovated railway station that claimed the lives of 16 people in Novi Sad, the country's second-largest city, public outrage has sparked a monumental fight against corruption. Protesters first took to the streets to demand accountability from government officials for the negligence and dishonesty that resulted in the tragedy. They staged silent protests starting at 11:52 am, the time the canopy collapsed, standing silently for 15 minutes, one minute for every life lost. After students of the Faculty of Dramatic Arts were assaulted during a peaceful protest on November 22 by pro-government thugs who may have been directed or even paid by government officials, anger over the collapse gave way to broader outrage.
The attack on the students, the lack ofaccountability from the corrupt populist government, and the deceit behind the construction of the railway station have led to a larger demand to restore justice and accountability. A bloody handprint, which has grown to be the symbol for the student movement, represents the culpability that the Serbian government has in the canopy collapse and for years of an oppressive and controlling regime. The protests are writing history, leading to the resignation of more than a dozen government officials and growing to become the largest student-run movement Serbia has seen since the 1990s and possibly the largest in Europe since 1968.
For most Serbians, a movement of this magnitude seemed unimaginable, especially from a generation with high emigration rates, yet the students have made the impossible a reality.
The Serbian Progressive Party or Srpska Napredna Stranka has been the ruling political party since 2012 when Aleksandar Vučić took office. In the years since, his government has been accused of having ties to organized crime, bribing voters, and abusing its political power to threaten opposition. His populist government, and the oligarchy it perpetuates, have threatened and dismantled civilian rights and freedoms within the country.
The renovation of the train station, which began in 2021, was the product of a larger project led by Serbia, China, and Hungary to develop a fast rail pathway between Belgrade and Budapest. Vučić's boasting about the station's upgrade and the project during his 2022 election campaign only increased suspicions following the collapse when he claimed that the canopy had not been renovated during the reconstruction. Documentation that later emerged proved this to be false and showed that at minimum some work was done on the canopy. The glorified reconstruction of the station and its ultimately deadly faulty construction is seen as an emblem of Vučić's neglect of public safety, infrastructure, and well-being to strengthen political and monetary relationships.
Rather than be intimidated by the assault on the November 22 protest, the Faculty of the Dramatic Arts students blockaded university buildings three days later, inspiring universities across the country to do the same. As protests intensified, so did the message unifying the students and protesters: Serbian citizens deserve better than a government that puts its political and financial interests above its people.
The demands set forth by the students are simple yet effective: First, they demand the release of all documents relating to the reconstruction of the Novi Sad railway station and full transparency on how such an avoidable tragedy could occur. Second, they demand accountability for those who have attacked peaceful protesters, going so far as to ram cars into crowds and injuring several people. Third, they demand that the criminal charges of those arrested during the protests be dropped. Lastly, they demand a 20% increase in the budget for higher education.
Students are demanding that the government abide by the same laws it imposes on its citizens. After students were injured by drivers who deliberately rammed cars into their peaceful protests, Vučić reacted by saying that the drivers were simply "trying to go about their way," a statement that made clear that his interests don't lie in the safety of his citizens but rather the preservation of his control. The students have developed an impressive tactic in response, shutting Vučić out and appealing directly to the judicial system, the Ministry of Education, and the Ministry of Construction.
On December 15 during a television interview, Prime Minister Milos Vučević made the abominable statement, "You can't bring down a country because of 15 people who died, nor 155, nor 1,555." This comment provided a comical victory for protesters after Vučević resigned on January 25, making him one of several officials to do so alongside the mayor of Novi Sad, Milan Đurić, and the Minister of Construction, Goran Vesić. On December 30th, Serbia's Public Prosecutorindicted 13 individuals regarding the collapse of the canopy. Vučević's resignation followed a general strike on January 24 that captured the country and increased pressure on the government. As the sun rose over Belgrade on January 25, protesters celebrated the 24-hour blockade of the city's largest road junction, Autokomanda, and the new chapter that the resignation of the prime minister brings to their movement.
Most recently the students have blocked off bridges in Novi Sad that serve as the main roadways between the city and Belgrade. In January their movement was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. But perhaps their biggest success has been in restoring hope across borders, professions, and generations.
Their resistance has spread beyond the protests and blockades. It's seen in communities set up by students in universities with kitchens, tents, and donation points. It's seen as high school students join them in the streets. It's seen in the songs they sing, the food they cook for one another, and the games they play as they block off one of the country's largest highway intersections. It's seen through the car horns, cheering crowds, and people running out of their homes with food and drinks for students marching 80 kilometers to join the Danube bridge blockade. It's seen when the Bar Association of Serbia goes on strike. It's seen as bikers, agricultural workers, and taxi drivers show up to support and protect students from the opposing violence. It's seen as peaceful demonstrations of support are spreading across borders and oceans to over 150 cities including New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. It's seen as students marched over 100 kilometers in the cold to join a massive blockade and protest in the city of Kragujevac, tearfully cheered on by bystanders.
Despite their success, domestic and international media coverage has been essentially nonexistent since the protests began. It wasn't until the historic protest held on March 15 where hundreds of thousands gathered in Belgrade's city center to protest the Vučić regime, that the Western media started covering the students' feat.
The suppression of protests and blockades by Serbian media is a deliberate effort to silence the students' voices and demands. With Vučić's foreign policy juggling act among major international powers, the resistance in Serbia has been mistakenly painted as anti-Putin by Western media outlets. Despite Vučić's delicate balance between the West and the East, the ideological conflicts arenot the driving force for the students; rather, their activism is rooted in the pursuit of justice and accountability from their government.
For most Serbians, a movement of this magnitude seemed unimaginable, especially from a generation with high emigration rates, yet the students have made the impossible a reality. Amid profound shifts in power and governments across the world, they are embodying the hope and power that lies within grassroots movements and activism. "Turn off the TV. Tune In" is a slogan that has been used by student blockade accounts in response to the government regulation and censoring of the media. It stands as a powerful call to action for Serbian citizens and a message that can resonate with activists and changemakers globally.
When looking at the crowds of students holding the symbolic blood-stained hand over their hands, we should be reminded of the blood washing over the hands of governments internationally. At a recent solidarity demonstration in New York, a sign reading "Jedan Svet, Jedna Borba / One World, One Fight" showcased the hope that lies within global solidarity. The tenacity, resilience, and perseverance of the students in Serbia have ignited a wave of hope, serving as a reminder that true power resides in the hands of the people.
Our work is licensed under Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0). Feel free to republish and share widely.
Ksenija Scahill is a Serbian-American freelance writer based in Brooklyn. She holds a bachelor's in psychology and a master's in community development and planning, both from Clark University.
Full Bio >
On the corner of West 25th Street and Broadway, a sea of blood-stained hands gather silently amid the noises of Midtown Manhattan. As tourists and locals rush across the intersection, some attempt to decipher the demonstration. A sign in Serbian Cyrillic reads, "Love for students, the ocean divides us, the fight connects us." After 15 minutes, the crowd breaks their silence, embracing one another through a shared goal, to show support for the students of Serbia.
This demonstration is part of a larger student-led resistance sweeping Serbia over the past three months. After the deadly collapse of a canopy at a newly renovated railway station that claimed the lives of 16 people in Novi Sad, the country's second-largest city, public outrage has sparked a monumental fight against corruption. Protesters first took to the streets to demand accountability from government officials for the negligence and dishonesty that resulted in the tragedy. They staged silent protests starting at 11:52 am, the time the canopy collapsed, standing silently for 15 minutes, one minute for every life lost. After students of the Faculty of Dramatic Arts were assaulted during a peaceful protest on November 22 by pro-government thugs who may have been directed or even paid by government officials, anger over the collapse gave way to broader outrage.
The attack on the students, the lack ofaccountability from the corrupt populist government, and the deceit behind the construction of the railway station have led to a larger demand to restore justice and accountability. A bloody handprint, which has grown to be the symbol for the student movement, represents the culpability that the Serbian government has in the canopy collapse and for years of an oppressive and controlling regime. The protests are writing history, leading to the resignation of more than a dozen government officials and growing to become the largest student-run movement Serbia has seen since the 1990s and possibly the largest in Europe since 1968.
For most Serbians, a movement of this magnitude seemed unimaginable, especially from a generation with high emigration rates, yet the students have made the impossible a reality.
The Serbian Progressive Party or Srpska Napredna Stranka has been the ruling political party since 2012 when Aleksandar Vučić took office. In the years since, his government has been accused of having ties to organized crime, bribing voters, and abusing its political power to threaten opposition. His populist government, and the oligarchy it perpetuates, have threatened and dismantled civilian rights and freedoms within the country.
The renovation of the train station, which began in 2021, was the product of a larger project led by Serbia, China, and Hungary to develop a fast rail pathway between Belgrade and Budapest. Vučić's boasting about the station's upgrade and the project during his 2022 election campaign only increased suspicions following the collapse when he claimed that the canopy had not been renovated during the reconstruction. Documentation that later emerged proved this to be false and showed that at minimum some work was done on the canopy. The glorified reconstruction of the station and its ultimately deadly faulty construction is seen as an emblem of Vučić's neglect of public safety, infrastructure, and well-being to strengthen political and monetary relationships.
Rather than be intimidated by the assault on the November 22 protest, the Faculty of the Dramatic Arts students blockaded university buildings three days later, inspiring universities across the country to do the same. As protests intensified, so did the message unifying the students and protesters: Serbian citizens deserve better than a government that puts its political and financial interests above its people.
The demands set forth by the students are simple yet effective: First, they demand the release of all documents relating to the reconstruction of the Novi Sad railway station and full transparency on how such an avoidable tragedy could occur. Second, they demand accountability for those who have attacked peaceful protesters, going so far as to ram cars into crowds and injuring several people. Third, they demand that the criminal charges of those arrested during the protests be dropped. Lastly, they demand a 20% increase in the budget for higher education.
Students are demanding that the government abide by the same laws it imposes on its citizens. After students were injured by drivers who deliberately rammed cars into their peaceful protests, Vučić reacted by saying that the drivers were simply "trying to go about their way," a statement that made clear that his interests don't lie in the safety of his citizens but rather the preservation of his control. The students have developed an impressive tactic in response, shutting Vučić out and appealing directly to the judicial system, the Ministry of Education, and the Ministry of Construction.
On December 15 during a television interview, Prime Minister Milos Vučević made the abominable statement, "You can't bring down a country because of 15 people who died, nor 155, nor 1,555." This comment provided a comical victory for protesters after Vučević resigned on January 25, making him one of several officials to do so alongside the mayor of Novi Sad, Milan Đurić, and the Minister of Construction, Goran Vesić. On December 30th, Serbia's Public Prosecutorindicted 13 individuals regarding the collapse of the canopy. Vučević's resignation followed a general strike on January 24 that captured the country and increased pressure on the government. As the sun rose over Belgrade on January 25, protesters celebrated the 24-hour blockade of the city's largest road junction, Autokomanda, and the new chapter that the resignation of the prime minister brings to their movement.
Most recently the students have blocked off bridges in Novi Sad that serve as the main roadways between the city and Belgrade. In January their movement was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. But perhaps their biggest success has been in restoring hope across borders, professions, and generations.
Their resistance has spread beyond the protests and blockades. It's seen in communities set up by students in universities with kitchens, tents, and donation points. It's seen as high school students join them in the streets. It's seen in the songs they sing, the food they cook for one another, and the games they play as they block off one of the country's largest highway intersections. It's seen through the car horns, cheering crowds, and people running out of their homes with food and drinks for students marching 80 kilometers to join the Danube bridge blockade. It's seen when the Bar Association of Serbia goes on strike. It's seen as bikers, agricultural workers, and taxi drivers show up to support and protect students from the opposing violence. It's seen as peaceful demonstrations of support are spreading across borders and oceans to over 150 cities including New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. It's seen as students marched over 100 kilometers in the cold to join a massive blockade and protest in the city of Kragujevac, tearfully cheered on by bystanders.
Despite their success, domestic and international media coverage has been essentially nonexistent since the protests began. It wasn't until the historic protest held on March 15 where hundreds of thousands gathered in Belgrade's city center to protest the Vučić regime, that the Western media started covering the students' feat.
The suppression of protests and blockades by Serbian media is a deliberate effort to silence the students' voices and demands. With Vučić's foreign policy juggling act among major international powers, the resistance in Serbia has been mistakenly painted as anti-Putin by Western media outlets. Despite Vučić's delicate balance between the West and the East, the ideological conflicts arenot the driving force for the students; rather, their activism is rooted in the pursuit of justice and accountability from their government.
For most Serbians, a movement of this magnitude seemed unimaginable, especially from a generation with high emigration rates, yet the students have made the impossible a reality. Amid profound shifts in power and governments across the world, they are embodying the hope and power that lies within grassroots movements and activism. "Turn off the TV. Tune In" is a slogan that has been used by student blockade accounts in response to the government regulation and censoring of the media. It stands as a powerful call to action for Serbian citizens and a message that can resonate with activists and changemakers globally.
When looking at the crowds of students holding the symbolic blood-stained hand over their hands, we should be reminded of the blood washing over the hands of governments internationally. At a recent solidarity demonstration in New York, a sign reading "Jedan Svet, Jedna Borba / One World, One Fight" showcased the hope that lies within global solidarity. The tenacity, resilience, and perseverance of the students in Serbia have ignited a wave of hope, serving as a reminder that true power resides in the hands of the people.
Our work is licensed under Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0). Feel free to republish and share widely.
Ksenija Scahill is a Serbian-American freelance writer based in Brooklyn. She holds a bachelor's in psychology and a master's in community development and planning, both from Clark University.
Full Bio >
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