Stefan Antić is Managing Editor of Horizons and a Senior Research Fellow at the Center for International Relations and Sustainable Development. You may follow him on X @StefanAnticRS. The views expressed in this essay are his own.

An untold number of historical lessons teach humanity that times of crisis present themselves as opportunities. For better or worse, this has been true of great tragedies, recessions, and as we are reminded yet again, armed conflicts. With hostilities in Ukraine sure to reach their three-year mark in February 2025, the tragedy of the ongoing conflict has given way not only to renewed concerns about international security, but also to reinvigorated narratives designed to settle old grievances and fully capitalize on a momentum of outrage. Given the preponderant Western reaction to Russia’s “special military operation,” which for a certain amount of time included both anger and resolve, ample opportunity arose for solidarity and those who attempted to exploit it for short-term gain. 

 

On this very note, Russian political scientist Andrey Kortunov argued back in 2022 that the ensuing period would be one of “new Western cohesion,” which, although temporary, would result in different “manifestations of unity” and solidarity. His argument outlined that such newfound unity would, expectedly, reaffirm the role of the old leader (the United States), while many less influential actors would wind up competing for a place closer to the “Western core.” A place that comes to mind when thinking of the Western periphery is the Balkans, a region with a history of longing for the West’s approval, yet one that has never—and likely won’t ever—become part of the “core.” The Balkan actors, frequently referenced as epitomes of unsettled grievances, were thus once more compelled to compete among themselves in their show of solidarity with what was increasingly becoming a Western cause. And when the time was right, these actors would attempt to gain an edge for their causes by skillfully incorporating them into the broader Ukraine narrative. More often than not, such behavior devolved into the distasteful business of “crying wolf,” irrespective of the realities on the ground.

A banner displaying the word "together"; advertising Russia's Gazprom oil company in Belgrade, Serbia. / Source: Shutterstock/lightman_pic

In 2022, the entire Balkans kept pointing to the principle of the inviolability of internationally recognized borders, even though this clearly meant very different things depending on who spoke out on the issue. For some ethnic groups in Bosnia and Herzegovina and their elites—first and foremost, Bosniaks—the events in Ukraine reinforced the desire to accelerate NATO enlargement. To them, NATO’s most attractive feature has always been its role as a guarantor of territorial integrity, whose robust involvement would effectively seal off the region as the West’s backyard. For Serbia, the developments in Ukraine have somewhat strengthened its long-held argument regarding Kosovo’s unilateral declaration of independence, which created a disturbing precedent that was always bound to resurface elsewhere, undermine international law, and hinder international security. Being proven right was of little consolation, especially since Serbia’s arguments in trying to retain Kosovo within its borders became a major inconvenience for those Western governments that had been vocal proponents of Kosovar independence. If anything, their incentive would have likely been to bury the very memory of how Serbia was robbed of its southern province.

 

As for the efforts of the provisional institutions in Priština, 2022 and 2023 marked new momentum to double down on victimhood rhetoric, depicting Kosovo’s ethnic Albanians as the Ukrainians of the Balkans, allegedly threatened by Russian influence through Serbia, a country they desperately tried to portray as Moscow’s main regional proxy. To advance this argument, officials of the so-called “Republic of Kosovo” repeatedly used inter-ethnic incidents to claim that Serbian security services were sowing instability in conjunction with their “overlords” in Moscow. In one such outburst, when local Serbs erected barricades to demand the release of their arrested compatriots in late 2022, Mrs. Vjosa Osmani held a press conference on the situation wearing a military uniform, closely resembling that of Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky. Months later, this time with no prior incident to trigger an inflammatory statement, Osmani spoke to the British newspaper The Telegraph, accusing Serbia of working in concert with Wagner, Russia’s private military company, to “prepare situations for a possible annexation—not through a traditional military operation but through a hybrid sort of attack.” And when an armed clash of local Serbs with the Kosovo Police took place in the province’s village of Banjska in September 2023, its head of government Albin Kurti quickly asserted that Serbia “wanted war.” Given that such deep-seated ethnic tensions were difficult to believably pin on Russia every time, Kurti later adjusted his statement, saying instead that “Serbia poses threats to its neighbors… using the Russian model.”

 

The pattern was clearly identifiable: the West’s “new cohesion” meant that Russia had once again become the enemy, and countering it at every turn was the principal rallying point. Those in the Balkans fighting to improve positions and prove their worth in the new circumstances needed an easy target, and with its undeniable cultural ties to Russia while being situated deep in NATO’s heartland, Serbia was it. Opportunistic geopolitics aside, it is true that Russian interests west of Ukraine’s borders were all but eliminated as early as March 2022. Russia’s banks were forced to close operations, its media networks were soon banned, and those perceived as defending or even being understanding of Russian views were sidelined. As for states perceived as allies, this was the worst possible time to play even the neutrality card, let alone create any semblance of trouble for the already infuriated West.

 

Depending on the interlocutor, one could probably receive wildly different answers as to whether Serbia read the cue correctly. Yet all of this invariably begs the question of whether there is some truth to the assertion that the Balkan country has served as a hotspot for Russian influence. Alternatively, one could just as easily ask whether this has merely been a way for Russia’s geopolitical competitors in the region to eliminate its presence, as they have already done in the rest of Europe.

 

Some of the most broadly referenced allegations of Russian “malign” influence, as globalist-leaning administrations in the United States had repeatedly referred to it, have involved attempts to alter public opinion through media outlets; conduct cyber-attacks; launch high-impact espionage operations; utilize vast energy resources to extract political concessions; use diplomatic clout to block one’s initiatives in international fora; and, no less importantly, employ the cultural appeal of the Russian Orthodox Church to either foster the idea of confessional brotherhood or promote Russia as the bastion of traditional values.

 

In this oddly set equation, it is sometimes difficult to discern whether Serbia is supposed to be thought of as another victim or agent of the described influence, although the country has in the past been labeled as both—sometimes even by the same people. Whether the relationship has had a damaging impact on Serbia or its neighbors remains subject of debate. But in any case, Belgrade’s engagement with Moscow is worth exploring—if for no other reason than to better understand the extent and limitations of Russia’s cooperation with Serbia.

 

Unsurprisingly, a more robust phase of Russian investment in Serbia began after Russian President Vladimir Putin came to power. During this period, which coincided with Russia’s own economic recovery, its investment in and engagement with the Balkan state focused on seven areas: (1) energy supply, infrastructure, refining, and extraction; (2) military procurement; (3) transportation infrastructure; (4) the food and agriculture industry; (5) information technologies and digital infrastructure; (6) humanitarian assistance; and (7) the media. Facilitating most of these activities was the Russian banking sector, which, before its departure in 2022, served as a major stepping stone for trade and investment in all key areas. Additionally, Russian construction and real-estate companies have tangibly invested in Serbia, although these investments were far from being the leading sectors of collaboration between the two countries. 

 

What has defined cooperation in strategic and economic terms over the last several decades are energy, military equipment, diplomacy, humanitarian assistance, and soft power. Each is examined in turn, with the aim of offering a useful account of fluctuations in Russian influence and the overall nature of its relationship with Serbia.

 

Energy & Trade

The energy sector, which has made the most difference economically, comprised some 90 percent of all Russian investments in the country in 2017. Additionally, it is quite notable that prior to 2022, Russia was responsible for nearly 100 percent of Serbia’s gas imports. An important example of Serbia’s reliance on Russian energy dates back to 2008, when Belgrade sold its national oil company, NIS, to Russia’s Gazprom Neft for a modest €400 million, albeit while securing Gazprom Neft’s commitment to invest another €500 million at a later stage. The deal initially caused controversy, prompting critics—particularly among economic analysts and opposition figures—to argue that such a vital national asset had been undervalued, estimating its worth at three times the agreed price. Serbian media, and especially its Western-leaning outlets, widely speculated that the deal had been devalued as a form of geopolitical gratitude. In other words, some believed this was a way for Belgrade to repay Moscow for its support of Serbia’s territorial integrity over Kosovo in international institutions.

 

Despite these narratives, Russia had other tangible strategic incentives to go forward with the deal in Serbia, and many of them surpassed symbolic reciprocity. The purchase of NIS was not just an investment; it was meant to serve as an anchor for a far more ambitious project—the now-defunct South Stream pipeline. Designed to transport Russian gas directly to Central and Southeastern Europe, the South Stream was intended to cement Moscow’s role as the region’s primary energy supplier, adding one more geographic layer to what was already a continent intertwined with pipelines. However, when the original Ukraine crisis of 2014 exacerbated tensions between Russia and the EU, Brussels introduced regulatory constraints and pressured Bulgaria—a key transit country—to halt construction, compelling Moscow to eventually abandon the project. At the time, Gazprom nevertheless remained firmly positioned in Serbia, modernizing the country’s oil industry.

 

Although the South Stream pipeline never came to fruition, Gazprom Neft’s control of NIS did eventually serve as an anchor for another pipeline project, the TurkStream. Although more modest in scale than its predecessor, with an annual capacity of 31.5 billion cubic meters as opposed to South Stream’s envisioned 65 bcm, TurkStream nonetheless solidified Serbia’s position as an essential transit country. The Serbian portion of the pipeline became fully operational on January 1st, 2021, which had solidified Russia’s energy presence in the Balkans.

 

While parts of European and American elites will likely maintain their rhetoric about Russian energy as a tool of geopolitical coercion, Serbia’s role in the TurkStream project demonstrates something more nuanced. Whereas the pipeline undeniably served Russia’s interests, allowing it to access markets in Southeast Europe via an alternative route, it also transformed Serbia into a key node in Europe’s gas transit network. The financial benefits were tangible: Serbia began earning an estimated €50 million annually from transit fees alone. Moreover, it is quite telling that no rival project had envisioned Serbia as a direct transit hub. Both the Trans-Anatolian Natural Gas Pipeline and the Trans Adriatic Pipeline bypassed Serbia entirely, relegating it to the status of an end consumer. Other alternatives, such as American liquefied natural gas (LNG), place a country like Serbia in an even more precarious position. Shipped across the Atlantic and dependent on specialized seaport infrastructure, American LNG remains a non-option for landlocked Serbia, exacerbating its dependency and logistical reliance on various intermediaries. Additionally, European buyers are now paying between two and five times more for American LNG than they did for Russian gas before 2022, further highlighting the economic burden of diversification efforts.

 

Beyond obvious economic benefits, Gazprom’s presence in Serbia has had geopolitical implications that again tie in with the country’s territorial integrity, this time in the form of potential flashpoints. While Kosovo remains Serbia’s primary territorial dispute, one should not forget the country’s northern province of Vojvodina, home to a diverse array of ethnic communities and historically a region of interest for Central European powers like Germany and Austria. The province also contains 63 of Serbia’s 67 known oil fields, which makes it an indispensable energy asset. Control over these resources is not only critical for economic resilience but also national sovereignty, especially in regions where both may be at risk. And if full domestic/state ownership was not economically viable, then having the sector controlled by a power that views Serbia’s strategic interests favorably was what the government in Belgrade saw as the next best option.

 

As previously pointed out, 2022 in Europe was not the best time or place for association with Russian companies, energy, or, worse yet, the state. When energy diversification became another element of Europe’s newfound “cohesion,” Serbia reluctantly joined the effort, turning first and foremost to Azerbaijan as an alternative supplier—an old, and above all reliable, partner. As it did with other European partners, Baku responded promptly, concluding an agreement with Serbia in November 2023, which involved the delivery of 400 million cubic meters of gas by 2026. Yet, while rich in resources and willing to help, Azerbaijan cannot entirely replace what had once been Europe’s heavy dependence on Russian energy, and Serbia is no exception.

 

Many of the aforementioned constraints have inevitably impacted Russia’s ability to maintain its energy partnerships, even with those that Moscow designated as “friendly countries.” Still, the most devastating blow to Russian energy endeavors in Serbia came in January 2025, when the U.S. Department of the Treasury imposed sanctions on Serbia’s oil company NIS due to its Russian-majority ownership. The move effectively exposed Serbia’s banking sector and much of its national economy to a real threat of secondary sanctions. Approaching its final days, the outgoing Biden Administration justified the decision as part of a broader aim to deprive Russia of a “key source of revenue for funding its brutal and illegal war against Ukraine.” But once again, this demonstrated something else: not only is Russian influence in Serbia under siege—even in aspects as potent as its energy resources—but it is Washington and its allies that have never lost the tools (or appetite) to curb whatever they perceived as a threat in the country. The security picture in this corner of the world further adds to this reality: with the entire Balkans, except for Serbia and Bosnia and Herzegovina, already in NATO, Western security dominance in the region is for the time being unquestioned. In such an environment, any perceived threats—whether real or imagined—are relatively easy to neutralize. Elite-driven rhetoric about “malign” influences thus continues to serve primarily as a tool of public mobilization, meant to regurgitate predetermined conclusions rather than signal any real shift in the balance of power.

 

A very similar situation has befallen Russia in the realm of trade. Apart from Belarus, a Russian neighbor and longstanding ally, Serbia remains the only country in Europe that has not imposed sanctions on Russia, despite repeated calls from the EU to do so. Initially, this policy was regarded as a major opportunity for Serbia, which has both a strategic partnership agreement with Moscow and a free trade agreement encompassing not just Russia, but the whole of the Eurasian Economic Union. This unique position, as many had hoped, could have been used for the reexport of Western goods to Russia and vice versa. In the early phases of EU and U.S. sanctions implementation, trade volume between Serbia and Russia grew significantly—from $2.8 billion in 2021 to $4.24 billion in 2022. However, as successive sanctions packages were introduced and monitoring mechanisms tightened in 2023, Serbian exports to Russia dropped to $1.19 billion, with the first half of 2024 witnessing an additional 24.1 percent decline compared to the same period the previous year.

 

Serbia has long seen its agricultural and food exports as a sector of great potential, and for its part, Russia has consistently acted as a readily welcoming market for these products. However, despite some growth, the expansion has been relatively modest. In 2022, Serbian food exports to Russia were valued at $200 million, rising only slightly to $210 million in 2023, with similar figures projected for 2024. The elephant in the room on this issue has always been the sheer scale of Serbia’s agricultural sector. With a population of just 6.6 million, the entire country lacks the production capacity to meaningfully supply even the city of Moscow, let alone the broader Russian market. In other areas where engagement has somewhat intensified, export categories such as pumps, machine parts, and telecommunications equipment have seen increases. This in turn spurred debate about the possibility that Serbia has—among many other countries—been used as a conduit for Russia to acquire Western-manufactured goods. While some Serbian companies have certainly made such attempts, their efforts did not escape the radar of the sanction-imposing countries.

 

But even so, all this goes against the point of Russia’s increased influence in Serbia, and by extension, the Balkans. These, after all, are Serbian exports to Russia rather than Russian goods making their way into Serbia or any other European markets. Even before the large-scale imposition of Western sanctions, Serbia traded disproportionately more with the countries of the EU, both as a result of its free trade agreements with the bloc and geographic proximity. Nowadays, Serbia’s total trade volume with the EU exceeds 60 percent of all of the country’s transactions, while Russia finds itself below 5 percent and trending negatively, behind regional CEFTA economies (combined) and China—which has been gaining significant ground over the last decade.

 

Military Cooperation and Humanitarian Assistance

Another crucial aspect that once carried immense importance for Serbia’s relationship with Russia was military procurement. For years, Moscow supplied Belgrade with some of its most advanced equipment, which helped advance Serbia’s defense capabilities and the broader strategic partnership between the two. Needless to say, this too came to a halt after 2022. But in the years prior, Serbia had acquired a range of military hardware from Russia, including modernized T-72MS tanks, Mi-17 and Mi-35 helicopters, and, perhaps most notably, six MiG-29 fighter jets. Beyond the tangible tactical advantages, these aircraft carried profound symbolic weight, resonated strongly with the Serbian public, and highlighted Russia’s role as the primary defense partner. In a country that had long been sidelined by the West and subjected to NATO’s intense bombing campaign in 1999, it also highlighted defiance—however briefly and symbolically. What additionally helped the Kremlin’s cause was that these were comparatively uncostly pieces of equipment, a fraction of the cost of what was being sold by the United States, France, or other major NATO manufacturing hubs.

 

A major, although not universally recognized, advantage of vigilant and orderly military procurement extends far beyond the sheer capacity to inflict defeats upon prospective adversaries. When one considers defensive weaponry, especially sophisticated systems such as air defenses, a country’s ability to defend its airspace carries potential for valuable financial benefits as well. Overflight fees for commercial aviation, especially for nations positioned in geographically strategic places, could serve as a meaningful source of revenue over the long term. Similarly, investments in the defense sector should not be observed solely as instruments of military deterrence but also as vital tools for potential emergency relief and rapid response mechanisms. Instances of large-scale forest fires, flash floods, or other natural disasters invariably demand military assistance—both in terms of manpower and specialized equipment—which is even more true in smaller nations with limited resources. To maintain these capabilities in any reliable sense, it is imperative for one to foster partnerships with willing providers, capable of meeting such needs at affordable costs. Throughout much of Serbian recent history, Russia’s terms for the provision of these systems have been more realistically attainable for the Balkan country.

 

While military cooperation is undeniably important, many defense industry professionals would eagerly testify to the fact that substantial equipment obtained from foreign sources cannot be maintained with the same efficiency as anything produced domestically. This particularly comes to mind when surrounded by nations bent on physically denying Russia access to the Serbian market. The unwritten rule of domestic production and domestic maintenance as a more sustainable formula applies to aircraft, armored vehicles, and a whole array of military machinery. However, even prior to the latest phase of the Ukrainian crisis, Serbia’s military exercises with Russian forces were annually vastly outnumbered by those conducted jointly with NATO, or its individual member states. To illustrate this point, data from 2019 indicates that in that year alone, Serbia held 17 joint military exercises with foreign armies, 13 of which involved NATO member states, while the remaining four were with Russia and Belarus. It goes without saying that since 2021, Serbia has ceased joint exercises with the Russian armed forces altogether. This trend is reflected just the same in procurement activities, given that all NATO countries deny their airspaces even to Russian civil aviation, let alone military aircraft or logistical defense shipments.

 

Thus, if Russian strategists were to seriously consider deploying Russian forces to Serbia for the purpose of armed activity in the Balkans—assuming there is even mutual willingness—they would be faced with severely limiting logistical factors. To convey much of the same point in a more humorous tone, the only feasible method for Russia to conduct large-scale deployments of personnel or munitions to Serbia would be to book a commercial Air Serbia flight in the hope nobody notices—a scenario in which Serbia’s national airline already depends on overflight permissions from several NATO countries. This, however, does not stop Russia from sending its intelligence operatives to Serbia as ordinary citizens. Still, such activities fall dramatically short of a robust or strategically significant presence. Ultimately, should NATO at any point identify a threat on Serbia’s territory requiring containment, it would have a wide range of tools at its disposal to do so. More importantly, regarding Russia, there is no logistically viable way for Moscow to prevent it from happening, let alone any binding legal obligation—since Serbia has never formally been an ally.

 

All factors considered, there is a clear limit to what Russia can pull off in the Balkans. While it would be empirically misguided to argue that the region has no importance for Moscow—given its geographic proximity to the Mediterranean and the cultural closeness with countries like Serbia—these are not vital interests. In fact, they are more easily abandoned when faced with an existential threat much closer to home, much like the one Russia believes it is currently facing from the West in Ukraine. As is widely known, Russia has already allocated a substantial portion of its available military capacity to the frontlines in and around the Donbass, a commitment that has encouraged adversaries in other theaters to exploit any potential vulnerabilities. A glaring example of this is the recent fall of Syria’s Bashar al-Assad, where Russian involvement had previously saved him from losing the war much earlier.

 

In the context of the Balkans, even if the warm people-to-people relations with Serbia were to be more formally reflected on the political front, it would be wholly unrealistic to expect Russia to commit to an additional frontline as long as issues in and around Ukraine remain unresolved. In the unlikely event of renewed conflict in the Balkans, Russia simply isn’t going to strike targets with its long-range missiles for the sake of Serbia in Kosovo (or anywhere else). And unless nuclear warheads were mounted on these missiles, this would amount to nothing more than strikingly expensive artillery barrages. No power on the planet, regardless of its ambitions or resources, could financially sustain such an effort even over the medium term. Besides, by casually engaging in scaremongering about Serbia’s willingness to deploy troops to Kosovo, a number of highly regarded international scholars display staggering ignorance of not just Russia’s ability to get involved, but also of the issue itself. The tendency to disregard the letter and spirit of the UN Security Council resolution 1244 just because it reaffirms Serbia’s sovereignty in Kosovo, often results in overlooking the fact that no Serbian soldier can cross the administrative line with the province without an explicit written approval from the KFOR commander—which given geopolitical circumstances is next to impossible.

 

Aside from the hard-boiled realities, Serbia has, behind the scenes, turned to the West. French President Emmanuel Macron has long nurtured friendly ties with his Serbian counterpart, Aleksandar Vučić. Whether their personal relationship made a difference on Serbia’s decision to purchase French military equipment remains unclear. In either case, Serbia signed a contract committing itself to purchase 12 Rafale jets in August 2024, scheduled for delivery by 2029. The contract is estimated to be worth a whopping €2.9 billion, which only reaffirms that military procurement wasn’t always about geopolitical balancing, but also about the costs. Now that the Russian option has been removed from the equation, Serbia is feeling the full weight of having to rely mostly on NATO’s manufacturing bases.

 

There is, nevertheless, an area where Russia’s involvement has been somewhat more acknowledged: its humanitarian efforts in Serbia. Russia channels much of its activity on the humanitarian front through the Russian-Serbian Humanitarian Center, located near the airport in the city of Niš. Opened in 2012, the Center’s main aim is to assist with natural disasters, conduct rescue operations, and remove explosive devices that remain on Serbia’s territory as a result of previous wars—most notably NATO’s 1999 bombing of the country.

 

The Center’s efforts came to the fore in 2014, when Serbia faced unprecedented flash floods that claimed 51 lives. It was at this moment that the Serbian public witnessed the full capacity of the Russian rescue teams, who played a pivotal role in preventing a far greater number of casualties. The Center deployed helicopters, firefighting equipment, mobile power stations, motor pumps, as well as highly trained, task-specific personnel, including professional divers to assist in various rescue operations. Their prompt response and use of specialized equipment played a crucial role in mitigating the impact of the floods.

 

In the aftermath of the disaster—during which citizens mobilized voluntarily to help those affected—the Center was universally hailed for its rapid response and display of solidarity with the Serbian people. This was especially evident as the media highlighted a glaring contrast with the reaction of the EU, which hesitated, reacted slowly, and on a scale nowhere near sufficient to make a real impact while the tragedy was unfolding. As time passed, the EU managed to mobilize substantial resources and provide assistance through its Instrument for Pre-Accession Assistance funds (and other mechanisms), contributing €258 million in aid and supporting the reconstruction of various pieces of infrastructure. Brussels also played a significant role in the relief and recovery of agricultural fields affected by the flooding. But in the eyes of many observers, the critical moment had already passed, and the impression of the EU’s cumbersome nature remained ingrained in public memory.

 

In the years that followed, American and EU diplomats often expressed concern and leveled accusations that the Russian Center was, in fact, an outpost for intelligence gathering. This diplomatic exchange escalated in 2017, when Russian diplomats launched an initiative to secure diplomatic status for the Center’s personnel. Unsurprisingly, this was met with widespread disapproval from their Western counterparts, who responded with another round of accusations about Russian efforts to “undermine regional stability” and spread “malign influence.”

 

For their part, Russia dismissed these claims as “absurd,” maintaining that the Center’s request was motivated by the prospect of preferential tax treatment, which would have facilitated more extensive humanitarian relief efforts where they were needed. While the Serbian authorities opted not to take sides in the diplomatic rift, they never granted diplomatic status to the Center’s personnel. At the time of this writing, the Center remains active, although the media speculated about its potential closure in 2022.

 

The Power of Russian Diplomacy

The realm of diplomacy is where Russia can block initiatives aimed at damaging Serbia’s position in a multitude of ways. Translated into practical terms, this mostly amounts to preventing the admission of Kosovo into international institutions, most notably the UN. As a veto-wielding permanent member of the UN Security Council, Russia is the sole reason why Serbia has been able to diplomatically halt separatism in its southern province, which remains an unrecognized breakaway entity. On other matters, Russia has been willing to provide everything Serbia has asked for, frequently reiterating unconditional support for the country’s territorial integrity and readily consulting Belgrade on which position to provide support.

 

In so doing, despite any reservations its elites might privately hold, Russia has been very careful about its public messaging toward Serbia. Publicly supportive of Serbia’s EU accession, Russia has phrased the issue smartly to avoid being seen as a power that stands in the way of Serbia’s aspirations to reform and build a booming economy. And as far as Serbia’s development plans, international initiatives, and broad strategic goals are concerned, none of them have ever been formally conditioned by Russia. For all the widespread discussion about Russian “malign” influence, it has never been Moscow that has done most of the arm-twisting in the Balkans. Instead, that role has been readily assumed by the EU and the United States, from securing loans from international financial institutions to incorporating clauses into Serbia’s formal EU accession process not to stand in the way of Kosovo’s path to UN membership.

 

Russia also played a pivotal role in helping Serbia fight resolutions regarding the legacy of the Bosnian War. For years, the United Kingdom, the United States, and Germany have publicly supported—and twice even tabled at the UN—initiatives that border on assigning communal blame to Serbs for the atrocities committed in Bosnia. Two such initiatives were eventually submitted in the form of UN resolutions, containing wording that, in addition to the existing judgments by the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia, insisted on cementing the term “genocide” when depicting the war crimes committed in Srebrenica. Besides facing opposition from the Serb ethnic community throughout the region, the majority of whom do not agree that the crimes committed meet the definition of genocide, the Serbian public also believes this would have been a prelude to attempts to abolish the Republic of Srpska, a Serb-majority entity in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

 

The first such resolution, which appeared before the Security Council in 2015, was vetoed by the Russian Federation. The second, which resurfaced in the General Assembly at Germany’s initiative in 2024, came at an odd time, seeking recognition of the crime at the height of the conflict in Gaza, where crimes of great magnitude were being discussed by a broad array of international observers. Even though the resolution was eventually adopted, the high number of abstentions and negative votes reflected an atmosphere of geopolitical divide, to which the oddly misplaced timing only contributed. Russia again resisted this unilateral attempt, upholding the spirit that all sustainable solutions in the Balkans have always been the result of consensus and broad agreement.

 

Meanwhile, the Balkans has witnessed an accelerated pace in the Belgrade-Priština dialogue, where one can paradoxically observe agreements being reached more swiftly even as incidents on the ground continue to multiply. The EU-led dialogue between the parties, in which Russia is not a participant, has in its latest phase been notably influenced by the conflict in Ukraine, prompting both the EU and the United States to address the issue with greater urgency. The longer the “Kosovo question” remains unresolved, the longer there will be barriers to bringing the entire region under NATO’s single security umbrella.

 

Another lingering issue is the “Kosovo precedent,” stemming from its 2008 unilateral declaration of independence. In its current form, it continues to pose challenges for the West, raising questions about international law, and who possesses the authority to declare special cases. However, if the issue were to be resolved with Serbia’s consent, it could be safely relegated to the category of historical agreements resembling the Good Friday Agreement that settled the status of Northern Ireland. In other words, it would no longer be imposed on one party, and thus, no longer unilateral.

 

Oddly enough, after years of failing to secure Priština’s commitment to establishing an association of Serbian municipalities—even though such an entity would exist within the so- called Kosovo legal framework—the EU continues to insist on resuming the dialogue under its leadership. In this, it has found the most unusual ally: Serbia’s President Aleksandar Vučić. Despite having had numerous opportunities to do so, Vučić has never even hinted at the prospect of withdrawing from the several agreements that Priština has failed to honor. Similarly, despite Serbia’s position being supported by just over 50 percent of the world’s governments, the President has done little to utilize this fact and improve the country’s difficult position in the negotiations. Requesting an entirely different framework would have likely been met with excitement in Moscow, which, having had to redefine many of its international partnerships after 2022, would be eager to preserve one.

 

However, most powers in the world will not sacrifice their own objectives, especially for the sake of less powerful actors. Similarly, no power will become entangled in geopolitical conundrums out of the goodness of their heart. The best that minor powers like Serbia can hope for is establishing a mutually beneficial relationship with great powers. This normally occurs when some critical interests between the parties coincide. It isn’t the job of a great power to solve all the problems of any given nation—not even a close ally.

 

The Media and Soft Power

One area where Russia indeed makes a significant impact is the media. While any outlet presenting Moscow’s worldview has been under siege, if not outright banned, in most countries across Europe and North America, Russia’s media presence in Serbia has actually expanded since the beginning of the special military operation. Prominent Russian outlets such as Sputnik and RT have gained more followers, with RT Balkans even launching live programming in December 2024. Naturally inclined toward coverage aligned with the Kremlin’s positions, these networks are generally viewed as propagandist by most European governments. In reality, however, they have done little to alter public opinion in Serbia, where views are already, to a large extent, Russia-leaning. A 2021 survey by the Institute for European Affairs reveals that as many as 83 percent of participants believe that “Russia is a friend of Serbia.” In December 2022, when positive accounts of Russia in Europe had all but disappeared, an NSPM survey in Serbia found that 80 percent of respondents were against imposing sanctions on Russia. Owing to historical ties and a tangible affinity among the Serbian population for Russia, these outlets have merely reinforced pre-existing beliefs. The main “problem” with the information disseminated by Russian media isn’t that it’s untrue but that it’s often incomplete or outright irrelevant for a Serbian audience. While most Serbs find arguments highlighting the West’s double standards persuasive—mostly due to their own experience with the EU, and particularly NATO—Russian media lack clear direction when covering Serbia’s domestic issues. Their reluctance to report critically on the Serbian government risks appearing out of touch, especially concerning pressing topics of the day.

 

Russian activities in Serbia are, by an order of magnitude, less diverse than those of some competing powers. This is not to say that Russia isn’t doing what it can to promote its worldview in Serbia; it’s just that it isn’t doing anything fundamentally different from what other foreign networks have already done in the Serbian market. When one considers the breadth of foreign media represented in Serbia, it’s easy to note the presence of United Group’s media, with its flagship N1 TV serving as an official CNN affiliate in the Balkans, alongside the Qatari-owned Al Jazeera Balkans, as well as the Serbian-language platforms of the BBC, Deutsche Welle, Euronews, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, Newsmax Balkans, and Voice of America. Additionally, foreign ownership of traditional Serbian newspapers and networks has been widely known, including the daily newspapers Danas and Blic, which are part of United Group and Switzerland-based Ringier AG, respectively. Meanwhile, Serbia-based think tanks and NGOs have been fairly transparent about their funding, most of which is tied to longstanding grant programs of the U.S. and different EU governments. Contributing further to this understanding is the fact that Russian media outlets in Serbia don’t even rank among the top ten most-consumed media sources, which rules out their existing outlets as the frontrunners of Russian soft power.

 

One of the most misguided arguments regarding “malign influence” has been the claim that Russia promotes autocracy. Over the years, there has been ample evidence to suggest that Russia has consistently sought to improve relations with both autocracies and democracies alike. Available evidence suggests that what the Kremlin has not tolerated is being strategically challenged in its immediate neighborhood or having its large economic deals undermined for political reasons. None of this applies to Serbia. Quite the contrary—due to a fairly unique set of circumstances, Russia has long had a vested interest in having a more democratic Serbia as its partner. Given their natural affinity for Russia, its people, and culture, Serbs have long been reluctant to support political candidates running on an openly anti-Russian platform. This has translated into a new reality, in which experienced political figures had to adopt a much more Russia-friendly public posture, even if this meant not knowing how to implement it in practice. Given that Serbia is unlikely to elect a Russia-averse figure, the power of the Serbian people to freely choose their leaders might too be one of Russia’s less discussed advantages.

 

Nobody understood this dynamic better than Aleksandar Vučić, who, although formally elected, is far from a democratic leader. A staunch populist, Vučić has worked tirelessly to create an image of himself as a leader with excellent ties to the Russian policymakers. In his public appearances, he regularly boasts about not having imposed sanctions on Russia, despite the immense pressure Serbia faced from the EU. Yet, Serbia under Vučić has had sanctions in place against Belarus, Russia’s closest ally, for years. The same goes for Syria (while Assad was president), Myanmar, the DR Congo, Lebanon, Haiti, and several other states—all of which are measures that would have been unpopular. But imposing unilateral sanctions on these countries remains much easier to hide than anti-Russian sanctions would ever be. There are numerous examples of how Vučić has effectively concealed similar policies behind the scenes. For instance, large segments of the population remain completely unaware that Serbia has committed to allowing Kosovo to join any international organization under the 2023 Ohrid Agreement. On a matter of much greater relevance to Russia, Vučić has exported Serbian weapons to Ukraine in great quantities, whose worth in June 2024 was estimated at €800 million by the Financial Times. Formally sticking to Serbia’s policy of military neutrality, these weapons have made their way to Ukraine through third countries. And in so doing, as Carnegie Fellow Maxim Samorukov writes, it is now evident that Vučić has supplied Kiev with “greater assistance than any of the three Baltic states,” once more avoiding detection in the unpopular act.

 

The most crucial aspect of Russian engagement with Serbia that hasn’t served Moscow’s interests well lies, oddly enough, in one of its most principally held positions: that of non-interference in the internal matters of other (especially geographically distant) sovereign states. Regardless of its preferences, Russia has long been careful to steer clear of supporting any particular actor in Serbia’s domestic politics. Unlike its Western counterparts, many of whom maintain contact with a broad social spectrum, Russia has consistently prioritized exclusive engagement with Serbian government officials, frequently at the expense of its own long-term objectives. On the surface, this helped solidify the public image of Russia as a friendly actor that, despite its great power status, respects Serbia’s institutions and political processes. However, such policy inertia has steadily increased the risk of Russia’s expulsion from the Balkan geopolitical theater, demoting the Kremlin to the role of silent observer in the process. As recently as in December 2024, the Russian Foreign Ministry’s spokesperson Maria Zakharova commented on the ongoing protests in Serbia, saying that the country is “struggling with an attempt to replace the legitimate government through a Western-inspired color revolution.” While this statement can be understood as Russia’s knee-jerk reaction—an aversion based on the experience of multiple coups and attempted revolutions it faced in its neighborhood—Moscow risks unnecessary association with a worn-out politician who is steadily losing ground among his own people. Moreover, by providing tacit support for Vučić, Russia might be sawing off the branch on which it sits, as, in addition to geopolitical factors, Serbia’s president has played a role in devaluing the relationship between the two countries.

 

Over the last several decades, the popularity it enjoys among the Serbian population has been the most significant factor working in Russia’s favor. Even though the sanctions-imposing governments have made significant efforts to expel Russia as a relevant actor from the Balkans, it was the latter’s popularity that made this endeavor enormously difficult. The Western allies may have had some initial success in squeezing out Russia’s economic and security presence in Serbia, yet this doesn’t solve one of their most glaring long-term problems. For better or worse, any Western actor in Serbia needs all elements of societal control to secure its own success, including vital economic, security, and political pillars of dominance. Such gains are fundamentally questioned the moment any of the pillars start to be undermined. In contrast, Russia has genuine soft power. While its influence may be besieged, no other great power has the ability to regain it so quickly.

 

Since 2022, Serbia has taken in more than 250,000 Russian citizens, with around 30,000 having already applied for permanent residence and passports. While it’s clear that some of them sought a welcoming place to escape the partial mobilization announced in September 2022, Russian citizens in Serbia have already established multiple shops, stores, IT businesses, and other companies that have helped accelerate the growth of the Serbian economy.

 

On the negative side, increased demand for real estate has driven up prices of property. These trends coincided with exacerbating inflation, resulting in an overlap of negative tendencies. But again, this sudden influx has also increased the Serbian population’s interest in learning the Russian language, as the two cultures became more intertwined. The same is true of the completely reinvented Russian cultural scene, which has risen from practically non-existent to the status of the second most sought-after in major Serbian cities. Culturally enriching and intriguing to an already receptive Serbian audience, the stated influence might only be temporary. Over the long term, Serbia stands to gain much more from the influx of the Russian population than Russia could by “spreading influence” through its emigres. As both countries experience demographic decline, it is Serbia, not Russia, that benefits from replenishing its own numbers. Besides, there is an old saying about environments welcoming (culturally similar) immigrants and their experience: “their biggest problem is that they have no problems.” In other words, throughout history, there have been very few instances where Serbian immigrants to Russia or Russian immigrants to Serbia were able to preserve their original identity in the second generation. As the examples of the White émigrés in the 1920s remind us, Russia has already given Serbia a population injection in the previous century. Absent major disruptions in Serbia, the likes of which the country should be wise to avoid, the twenty-first-century influx of Russians should be no different.

 

For decades, the relationship between Russia and Serbia has relied on a few pillars. Energy, military procurement, and the support Russia enjoys among Serbs have always served as its main motors. The “malign influence” that many commentators endlessly reiterated as one of the main threats to European peace and stability more frequently appeared to reflect an information campaign rather than realities on the ground. And even where Russia looked robust and formidable, “Western cohesion” proved not so easy to counter. The near-total reliance on Russian gas prior to 2022 was gradually eroded as the West unleashed unprecedented sanctions, yet no other actor has been able to replace Russia in the Balkans or, for that matter, the broader European market. It is quite clear from the available indicators that Russia’s influence in the tangible economic and security sense is receding. However, as a near-universally loved nation in Serbia, Russia still enjoys an advantage that no other power can either gain or recover so quickly. The closeness that the two peoples regularly display has, over the years, complicated Serbia’s maneuvering in the Balkans, NATO’s strategic backyard. Local actors, for the most part insignificant in their size and value to the Western bloc they aspire to join, have been attempting to utilize this “strategic opportunity,” as even the sheer perception of being a Russian ally since 2022 has made countries easy targets. Serbia’s refusal to impose sanctions on Russia has only further fueled such prejudice. Any aspiration for economic gain by mediating between the warring parties proved difficult, with export volumes stagnating and then dropping again as more sanctions packages were added and the conflict in Ukraine continued. And military cooperation, a formerly dominant feature of the relationship, came to an abrupt end after 2022, eliminating one more aspect where Russia’s presence was once meaningfully felt. Whether, how, and when Russia might regain its former foothold is yet to be written in the pages of history. For all the talk of bad intentions or influence, relevant analysts of the day could do well to reflect and conduct deeper evaluations on whether Russia’s offerings made sense in different parts of the world. If real indicators of one’s performance and policy teach us anything about the world we live in, it’s that threat inflation can indeed be a powerful tactic against adversaries.

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