
By Miodrag Marinković
As protests in Serbia continue unabated, pressure on the government is mounting, while its attempts to control them become increasingly banal, transparent, and exhausted. Here in Kosovo, the question is being raised with growing frequency: What will happen to the negotiation process if the regime in Serbia falls?
This is undoubtedly a complex issue, as Serbian society in Kosovo has not seriously debated this scenario. The ruling party’s long-standing narrative—“after us, the flood”—has lulled many into complacency and frightened even more. At first glance, a change of government in Serbia could introduce uncertainty regarding the Kosovo issue. However, a closer analysis reveals patterns and logical reasoning that demystify “the day after,” whenever it may come.
Some things are clear, while others require deeper analysis. It is evident that after 12 years of SNS rule and its affiliates, things could hardly get worse for Serbs in Kosovo. This requires no special explanation—one only needs to compare where we were and how many of us there were in 2012 versus where we stand today.
Another undeniable fact is that the prospect of a government change in Serbia is most feared by the international community. They know they are unlikely to ever again have a more servile government, one completely devoid of ideological baggage and willing to make concessions to secure its irreplaceability—an ideal partner.
All other questions are significantly more complex, and this article will offer one—admittedly subjective—perspective on some of the key dilemmas regarding what will happen to Kosovo if, or rather when, this government falls.
The first and fundamental question—one that the Serbian government has effectively used to undermine public motivation for change—is: Who will replace them?
The most likely answer is a technical and transitional government composed of diverse ideologies, united solely by the goal of ousting the current regime. On all other issues, this government will lack the coherence needed to tackle complex domestic and foreign policy challenges, such as relations with Ukraine and Russia, European integration, and, of course, Kosovo.
The good news is that, given its limited mandate, it probably won’t have to deal with these issues. Its main task will be organizing extraordinary free elections, which is where a more defined ideological and value-based profile of Serbia’s future government may emerge.
A probable scenario—one the author acknowledges as a biased assertion—is the formation of a liberal, pro-European, and democratic bloc that would take power in Serbia. With that, it would inherit the responsibility of handling the Kosovo issue and engaging in the negotiation process. However, it remains uncertain whether there will be anything left to negotiate, given the devastating diplomatic, economic, and demographic consequences of SNS and Vučić’s rule, which will be extremely difficult to reverse.
What would their stance on Kosovo be? This is another complex question. The simple answer is that the new government’s negotiating position will be far less servile compared to the current regime and much more resistant to the pressures inherent in such diplomatic processes.
The Serbian Progressive Party (SNS) primarily used its negotiating potential for narrow party interests, employing media propaganda to disguise its actions as patriotism. The new government will have the opportunity to change this and prioritize the survival of Serbs in Kosovo as an actual policy objective.
This, in turn, could open the door to new approaches—ones that would bring tangible benefits to the Serbian community in Kosovo, such as eliminating corruption, encouraging economic investment, and creating sustainable living conditions—rather than relying on empty promises and manufactured crises.
The imperative will be something no previous government has achieved: a strategic approach to the Kosovo issue rather than a party-driven program.
Kosovo Serbs would assist in this endeavor, or would they?
This leads us to the third critical question: Who will be the political representative of Kosovo’s Serbs? The assumption is that a change of government in Serbia will inevitably lead to the collapse of its Kosovo proxy, Srpska Lista.
This is where things get particularly complicated. The only articulated opposition stance against the current government’s Kosovo policy isn’t actually new—it advocates for complete segregation from Pristina, a boycott of institutions, and operating outside Kosovo’s legal framework, similar to the approach before SNS came to power.
Most politicians who now identify as opposition, regardless of whether they lean right or left, whether they are politically active or just vocal on social media (like X, formerly Twitter), subscribe to this stance.
However, this strategy was established in entirely different socio-political circumstances, and many of the advantages SNS once had have now been squandered—likely forever.
A series of disastrous political moves—such as losing control over the police, the Banjska incident, withdrawal from the judiciary, and making concessions without reciprocal agreements from Pristina—have changed the reality on the ground. Reverting to a policy of resisting integration into Kosovo’s society, if it is even possible after all this, would likely lead to new conflicts with Pristina, but now with far less political and human capital.
Thus, the new government in Serbia will face a dilemma: Either it will have to conduct its Kosovo policy without the support of Serbs in Kosovo, or it will, like Vučić, create its own political elite to implement its agenda. SNS and Vučić did this through coercion and suppression of dissent. If the new government aims to be a credible negotiator, it will have to find alternative methods—ones that allow agreements to be implemented without force or pressure.
This won’t be easy, as we all remember how challenging this was for the democratic government in its final years.
The uncertainties and challenges facing a new government don’t stop there.
The negotiation framework—namely, the EU plan for normalization—will likely remain unchanged, and the new government will be obliged to implement agreements signed by the current administration. This will pose a major problem, especially if the new government includes nationalist factions in a broader coalition.
Another question is who will be in opposition and how much of a threat or limiting factor it will be for the new government.
In Kosovo, the international community, despite being frustrated with Kurti’s lack of cooperation, still believes it is easier to negotiate with him at the table than to deal with opposition movements in the streets.
A similar perspective applies to Vučić, though fears of his opposition role may be unfounded. Serbia’s government is not built on the principle of electoral turnover, which would allow Vučić to act comfortably in opposition if defeated. If that were the case, SNS would have lost power long ago.
There are many more dilemmas, but this article is already too long, so a final conclusion is in order.
The uncertainties, risks, and opportunities brought by a change of government in Serbia are nothing new, regardless of the political dichotomy the current regime uses to instill fear. It will be difficult—but things are already unbearable.
All statements made in this text are the personal views of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the editorial staff. KoSSev is not the author of the text.
Preuzimanje i objavljivanje tekstova sa portala KoSSev nije dozvoljeno bez navođenja izvora. Hvala na poštovanju etike novinarske profesije.








