I went to Belgrade to talk to Branko, Vasilije and Aleksandr who remembered the events. If you have not read the introductory piece, I encourage you to do so here.
“When we arrived, we were greeted like heroes”, remembers Vasilje. The scenes were unique, with all four streets coming to the Slavija roundabout full of protestors. He remembers the scenes as something from out of this world: “People came from different directions, it grew exponentially bigger. I could see them coming from the balconies, waving flags and greeting us from their apartments. It felt like a scene from the Avengers”.
Although the protest only started at 12:00 in Belgrade, people from all over Serbia had been coming in previous days. In many cases, there were students who walked over a hundred kilometers to attend the protest. From Novi Sad to Niš through Kragujevac, every major city has students walking weeks to attend the ‘Big Day’. Branko remembered a friend of his, who injured his feet following ‘the walk’ to Belgrade. The dedication was clear, while Aleksandr reminded me that “going through small villages meant that we told people what was happening. They did not know anything about the situation, their local media did not report it”.
The difficulty in protests like these is to coordinate the people. Vasilije, who was in a yellow vest as one of the organizers, recalls the preparations: “We were prepared. We brought tear gas masks because we expected the government to use them against us”. Despite that, he and his friends knew this would not be enough. The group gathered support from Army Veterans – notably the 63rd Parachute Brigade, which was described by all three students as “the elite” of the Serbian Army. Aware of the upcoming clashes, they understood they would need strong men to protect them.
As a result, two lines were formed according to Vasilje: “We were in front, marching forward, while the Veterans were behind us, in order to protect us and the other students”. They had walkie-talkies to communicate any troubles or unexpected events. Although there are no official figures, Vasilje estimated them to be around 3,000 to 5,000 veterans. He also remembers waiting for them before the protest: “They filled the streets, and for the first time in my life, I was happy to be waiting for an hour. It was unforgettable”.
One of the greatest controversies during the protest was the organization of so-called “counter-protestors”, who camped on a botanical garden. Branko says this is illegal: “It is protected by law. They set up three layers of protections, more than what the government would usually put. They camped there, and added barbed wire. They even put up tractors as a barricade.” For him, the intent is clear: provoking students to allow the government to blame protestors for “violence”.
Until 16:00, the protest remained relatively peaceful, barring a few incidents. Vasilije remembers being in another sector (instead of the first line), as he says other faculties needed help setting up their barricade. However, he received messages of his colleagues, who found stacked bricks, with an obvious intent of violence. For him, the difference was obvious: “There were two sides: peaceful protestors on another side, while armed men with bats, preparing a worst-case scenario on the other”.
A few moments later, everything broke apart: “We tried to control everything, with bikers roaming around to prevent chaos. However, I received a message that protests broke through one of the blockades.” However, by this point, Vasilije insisted that “no serious troubles happened”, but acknowledged that they lost control. This is when the first clashes started: “I saw six rows of policemen with shields and batons, I believe they were a few hundreds, without uniform. Officially, the number was estimated to be around 1,800.” Branko reminded me of one detail: “Curiously enough, the police got a significant pay raise the days preceding the protest”.
And then, everything broke loose. Armen men were reported in the surroundings of parliament buildings, while rocks and firecrackers were thrown at stewards – like Vasilije himself. At this point, Vasilije needed to leave, which took about 35 minutes of walking given the extent of the crowd. It is at that point that the sound cannon detonated, an illegal device able to break pacemakers. Aleksandr remembers: “We had 15 minutes of silence, in honour of the 15 victims of Novi Sad. In the 12th minute, something detonated. We knew it was not whistles, because nobody would do that during the minutes of silence”.
While the government denied using the sound cannon, the population knew what had happened. The sound cannon was used to split the crowd in two, stirring chaos and serious injuries. “They said they do not have one, but the next day a government official said they had 16. They even showed a tutorial on how to use it later”. Hundreds ran to medical facilities, but few of them were accepted. The sound cannon is illegally owned, causing another great trauma.
Branko, like many Serbs, recalled when President Aleksandar Vučić said days earlier that “When the silence echoes, you will hear how loud the silence will be”. Little did Serbia know at the time that it would lead to use of an illegal weapon.
