By Tatjana Lazarević
There is no more precarious time for a journalist than when they begin to question the very purpose of their work.
Who, in today’s climate, regards journalism—or even journalists’ safety—as essential? Especially in societies marred by insecurity, injustice, and the erosion of dignity.
How appropriate is it to focus on journalists’ plight in a country grappling with tragedies like the collapse of a renovated railway station canopy, killing 15 people, or the horrifying mass murders—one by a schoolboy in the capital, leaving nine children and a security guard dead, and another by a young man the following day, claiming nine more lives near the same city? Or when a 74-year-old protester is brutally beaten by police, leaving him disabled?
What’s the point of explaining the latest cloud of insecurity hanging over the dwindling Serbian community in Kosovo when propaganda suffocates both Kosovo and Serbia, affecting everyone—Serbs and Albanians alike? How can journalists persevere when their communities are decimated and despondency reigns?
The greatest threat to journalism comes from propaganda, while despair erodes dignity. Propaganda in Serbia and Kosovo takes many forms—grey, black, war propaganda, personality cults, and fake news. Serbia’s state-controlled media juggernaut remains unmatched in the region, while Kosovo has seen a surge of agitprop fueled by the governing Vetëvendosje movement, which also brings hatred, violence, and insecurity.
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If Serbia has a „golden age,“ so does Kosovo: a supposed era of robust economic growth, strong democracy, rule of law, military and security advancements, investments, potential to become Europe’s new Silicon Valley, educational excellence, and cultural renaissance benefiting all, including the Serbian minority, which Vetëvendosje claims to have „freed“ from Serbian criminals and terrorists. Perhaps in Serbia, the imaginary enemy never sleeps, but in Kosovo, that enemy is unmistakably Serbia. The aggressive northern neighbor whose malignant influence seeps into nearly everything Serbian in Kosovo – from the Serbs themselves, depicted as terrorists and criminals, to churches that first appropriated Albanian identity and later became weapons caches, all fueled by the familiar strain of Greater Serbian nationalism.
Gurakuç Kuçi from the Oktopus Institute emphasized, following the incident on the Ibar-Lepenac canal, that further „discoveries of weaponry“ in the North are expected.
„As in the case of Banjska, where a large amount of weaponry was found in the church in Banjska, we don’t know what is hidden in Orthodox churches, whether there are weapons or who is staying in these religious sites,“ said this expert on Kosovo’s largest television station, Klan Kosova.
The media outlets reporting this statement, including Klan, concluded their coverage with this remark, without editorial clarification that the „large weaponry“ was not found in the Banjska Monastery itself, but rather in the surrounding area. Furthermore, it was established that the small pieces of equipment found within the monastery complex were remnants from a Serbian paramilitary group that had broken into the monastery, contrary to its will and interests. This was later confirmed by the Diocese during the conflict.
When I recently attended the monastery celebration in Visoki Dečani, an Albanian taxi driver shared a personal story with me in front of the monastery gates, cautioning me about the risks associated with my profession. „After all these reports in the media – what weapons are being kept in churches?“ he asked, clearly conveying his belief in this narrative.
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Politicians are skilled at speaking, whether they’re making threats or offering assurances. The most successful among them manage to conjure up visions of local or global disaster, all while securing a kind of paradise for society. However, such manipulation of the masses relies on the devil’s apprentices—the propagandists in the media and unscrupulous reporters.
Is there anything we don’t know about the modus operandi of pro-regime media in Serbia, whether traditional outlets, hybrid-independent, hybrid-oppositional, or even hybrid-foreign social platforms, as well as the often overlooked but powerful Telegram channels? Perhaps specific figures, names, or task descriptions? The essence is clear: framing a world teetering on the brink of apocalypse or domestic catastrophe, friends and enemies from within and abroad, national superiority and sacrifice, prosperity and crisis— whatever kind of rabbit the media magician needs to pull out of the hat at that moment. As they say: „Make it double.“
Exactly 20 years after the worst post-war ethnic violence in Kosovo, for which credible international reports (from the OSCE in Vienna and Human Rights Watch) revealed the incendiary role played by electronic media in Albanian, especially the Kosovo Public Service, the same outlet made the same mistake this year in its coverage of the events: Albanian boys drowned „while fleeing from a group of Serbian youths.“
This statement mirrored the narrative promoted by Self-Determination, which, after visiting the graves of the drowned children in Cabra near Zubin Potok, claimed the children were murdered and that Serbian criminals had opened fire on peaceful Albanian protesters, who were allegedly organized, while the protests were portrayed as spontaneous across Kosovo. They also claimed that most of the victims were Albanian and that justice had still not been served, with their account aligning with that of the international judge.
In a slightly milder tone, Albin Kurti, after mentioning both Serbian and Albanian victims, noted that it had never been clarified who directed the protesters toward settlements with Serbs and Orthodox churches and monasteries. He added that „the children jumped into the Ibar River to escape a group of Serbian youths.“
„Riots broke out following reports that Albanian children had drowned in the Ibar River as a result of Serbian violence, although the cause of this tragedy has never been fully clarified. The children who survived later that night told cameras that they were chased by Serbs and were running when some of their peers drowned in the river,“ wrote Koha on March 17th.
„On the following day, March 17, protests erupted in numerous cities across Kosovo, quickly escalating into violence. During the unrest, several Serbian homes and churches were set on fire. Similar incidents occurred with Albanian homes in Serbian-majority areas. In retaliation, Serbs burned several mosques in Serbia.“
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The March violence followed the drowning of three Albanian boys from Cabra in the Ibar River on March 16, 2004. Immediately after the tragedy, Kosovo media reported the event as an ethnically motivated crime, claiming the boys jumped into the river to escape Serbs who were chasing them with a dog.
The media referred to statements from the fourth, surviving boy, the only eyewitness. However, it later emerged that the boy had only said that the Serbs had shouted at them from a nearby house, frightening him and his friends—not that they had chased them. After an investigation, an international prosecutor concluded that the evidence did not support the claim of a criminal act.
Around 286 Serbian homes, over 35 churches, monasteries, and cemeteries were destroyed and burned, and more than 4,000 Serbs were displaced during the two-day violence, which was ultimately halted by KFOR. At the time, there were no „similar incidents with Albanian homes“ in Serbian-majority areas, though such events did occur in Serbia. In the wave of violent demonstrations, the Bajrakli and Islam-Agin mosques were set on fire, and in several cities, shops belonging to Gorani and Albanians were looted.
Today, 20 years later, it has become common practice for Kosovo officials to publicly announce the perpetrators of a crime, often before the institutions have issued a verdict, qualifying the act and labeling the (declared) perpetrator, frequently speculating about the expected punishment. Ministers, including those in charge of justice and internal affairs, as well as the president and prime minister, regularly engage in these declarations. Why wouldn’t the media, with their post-truth mindset, follow suit? And then, inevitably, the citizens?
Does this sound familiar?
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This year, Kosovo dropped 19 places in the Reporters Without Borders’ media freedom index, while Serbia fell by 7 places. Kosovo now ranks in the third group at 75th place, while Serbia is in the fourth group at 98th. For years, I have heard colleagues in Pristina talk about the „malignant foreign influence“ of Serbian, Russian, and Chinese media in Kosovo. I have always believed they exaggerated, whether intentionally or not. While I have publicly agreed that the systematic approach of Serbian tabloids and, more broadly, media platforms on social networks, remains dominant in the region, and that the media sector is one of the two primary tools used by Aleksandar Vučić’s government, I have also praised the pluralism of the media scene in Kosovo. With certain exceptions, this also applied to the absence of political pressure on media work and institutional openness for collaboration with the media (excluding the experience of editorial offices in Serbian). That is not the case anymore.
In his recent emergency address following the Ibar-Lepenac canal sabotage, which he directly blamed on Serbia, Vučić, and Milan Radoičić, Albin Kurti also accused the media of participating in a hybrid and kinetic war against Kosovo.
He urged citizens to „continuously follow official instructions and statements,“ while simultaneously calling on them to „reject information from well-known portals“ and lamenting that, unfortunately, some have become, to varying degrees, part of the hybrid war against the Republic of Kosovo, its people, and the entire Albanian nation.
This was followed by further targeting. Journalist and founder of the portal Nacionale, Berat Buxhala, who has been under constant pressure and threats—described a few years ago as coming from the „trolls of Self-Determination“—received new threats, death threats this time. Since the summer, there has also been a controversy following the Kosovo Public Service broadcasting part of a news piece from the portal Slobodna Bosna, concerning the alleged control of the Serbian president over the Albanian-language portals Periskopi and Nacionale, which had been promoted by high officials from Self-Determination. President Vjosa Osmani subsequently „requested an investigation.“
Faruk Mujka, director of IbarLepenac, issued a statement stigmatizing journalist Mimosa Koprani-Muçaj, author of the show Konfront on KTV, and the influential television station itself, comparing them to „Stanišić’s group,“ Sputnik, and Russia Today. These outlets are banned in Kosovo and are met with strong disdain by both the Albanian population and authorities. Responding to journalistic questions during an interview with Minister of Economy Artan Rizvanoli, which he found unappealing, Mujka described it as „an extremely vile and extreme abuse of public media to spread lies and defame the people.“
Dušan Milanović, the owner of the Kosovo Online portal, was detained in Leposavić. The media outlet, which has dual registration, operates as Vim Info D.O.O. In the Serbian Business Registry, it is owned by the AVALA MEDIA GROUP DOO BEOGRAD. Milanović spent 48 hours in detention under accusations that he was allegedly the administrator of the Telegram page „Koridor,“ which had announced potential actions days before the Ibar-Lepenac sabotage. The Office for Kosovo and Metohija denied this. He was later released and welcomed by leaders of the Serbian List on the ground, accompanied by a phone call from the President of Serbia. They hailed him as a „Serb hero,“ despite previously referring to him only as a fellow journalist.
In early November, Vehbi Kajtazi, director of the portal Paparaci, discovered a GPS tracking device on his car. A week earlier, he had expressed suspicions that the Kosovo Intelligence Agency (KIA) was eavesdropping on him and had already notified the relevant authorities.
In October, the car of Nevenka Medić, director of KoSSev, was damaged in a parking lot in downtown North Mitrovica, seemingly with an incendiary substance. However, the Kosovo police later removed one of the three stains and scraped off another, without informing the public that a „second forensic examination“ had been conducted on the car parked in front of the editorial office several days later, after the first examination had already been carried out in her presence.
Visar Syla, the head of the cabinet of the mayor of North Mitrovica, verbally and physically attempted to prevent journalists from Pristina-based outlets Telegrafi and Kallxo from filming an attack on young Serbian politician Aleksandar Arsenijević of the Serbian Democratic Party by a guest of a newly opened Albanian restaurant, Missini, after Arsenijević whistled at municipal officials.
Serbian newsrooms across Kosovo have also been obstructed from covering events, both those organized by the Serbian List, and they were also expelled from a session of the North Mitrovica municipality, led by the Self-Determination Movement. Throughout the season, ministers from Pristina frequently visited Mitrovica and the northern region, ignoring Serbian-language newsrooms, forcing them into the role of paparazzi, and refusing to address them in Serbian, either personally or through translators.
The KoSSev portal and several journalists from Pristina have, on multiple occasions this fall, become targets of disturbing photomontages that were spread through social media. Albanian journalists in Kosovo, already widely exposed, some of whom have been mentioned here, appeared in images and messages portraying them as shot, while the KoSSev logo, falsely attributed as the source of fake news, was also featured in photomontages of ‘shot’ Albanian leaders, including Albin Kurti.
Earlier this year, the same journalists, along with several others, were falsely accused of being “murderers of Faton Hajrizi,” the Albanian who killed Serbian gendarme Nikola Krsmanović in Loznica. Hajrizi, who had previously escaped from prison in Kosovo, which he had repeatedly done several times before, and committed multiple criminal acts, was initially imprisoned as a child for killing a Russian KFOR soldier. These journalists, who reported on him as a “fugitive criminal,” were once again targeted in manipulated photos depicting them as murderers.
The Kosovo Journalists Association (AGK) has repeatedly condemned the offensive rhetoric from the prime minister and other officials toward the media. They have raised concerns about the deteriorating media climate, highlighting unacceptable pressures on media freedom, whether through the controversial law, procedural actions, hate speech, or verbal and physical assaults.
AGK particularly warns about the dangerous trend of the government labeling journalists as “collaborators of Serbia,” which further undermines the serious and scandalous attacks on the media. At a recent meeting of the Self-Determination Movement’s main board, Kurti stated that media outlets that always find the culprit for attacks and aggression from Serbia in his government “do not deserve our attention.” He further claimed that media had never attacked any government more than his own, attributing this to the fact that his government “does not pay them,” and that journalists are no longer afraid of the authorities.
AGK strongly condemned Kurti’s inflammatory language, which equates Kosovo’s media with Serbia. “Such unacceptable rhetoric from the head of the government directly endangers the safety of journalists and media workers,” the AGK warned.
While I believe they are far more agile and united than any Serbian media associations, there is little visible impact when it comes to the actions of the authorities. Would the situation be even worse if they weren’t doing at least this?
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In the end, how can we avoid becoming the news ourselves when a gun was fired into our editorial office, and the police called it „happy shooting“? When our director’s car was set on fire, and nearly a decade later another one was damaged, while the police labeled the first case „spontaneous combustion“ and wiped away the stains in the second? When our website was hacked, blocked, and we were obstructed in our daily work in other ways?
How can we preserve the dignity of journalists when their families are threatened? When I constantly suspect or receive tips that I’m being wiretapped? When „friends“ are sent to ensure we write the „right“ news, so things don’t go wrong? When a group of intermediaries offers privileges for cooperation, while denouncers cheer for things to take a turn for the worse?
How can I encourage young journalists to see this as a career for them when a colleague mockingly says, „Well, they shot at you!“? When a former student compliments my work and then adds, „But if they tell me to do something against you tomorrow, I’ll have to do it“?
Finally, how can we, as a society, strengthen our collective voice when journalists are seen as sources of problems, party rivals, opposition activists, or government megaphones, and when the authorities equate themselves with the homeland, no matter how poorly they act? When expertise, dedication, and integrity are punished?
How can we protect ourselves from despair when we’ve all been reshaped by propaganda, where „the truth is what I say, and you stay silent“?
Preuzimanje i objavljivanje tekstova sa portala KoSSev nije dozvoljeno bez navođenja izvora. Hvala na poštovanju etike novinarske profesije.
