On 12 September at noon, EuroPride week was ceremonially opened in Belgrade’s Palace of Serbia. Every day several events are planned, including film screenings, talks and art shows, as well a human rights conference. Yet whether there will be a Pride march on Saturday 17 September is still unknown. If you ask the organisers, they are getting ready for a parade. Yet Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić thinks differently. 
On 27 August, Vučić held a press conference and stated that Pride would be cancelled out of security concerns. Arguing that the country is in a crisis with Kosovo and referring also to the energy crisis, he said that Serbia is not in a position to hold such an event. Admitting that this would be a violation of minority rights, he said that ‘It’s not a question of whether they [anti-LGBT extremists] are stronger, but you just can’t do it all at the same moment, and that’s it.’ To further consolidate the underlying message that his intention to cancel Pride was not homophobic, he also announced that he has appointed Ana Brnabić, Serbia’s out lesbian prime minister, for another term. Last Saturday (10 September), he spoke positively for the first time about LGBT people and how they should be treated equally. Yet he also directly stated that activists should focus on working on laws (such as inheritance, although he declared a year ago he would block the proposed registered partnership law as he considers it unconstitutional) rather than having a walk through the city.  
 
A short history of Pride in Belgrade
 
How did we get to this point? And what does Vučić seek to gain from banning EuroPride? To understand these actions, we need to briefly revisit the history of Pride in Belgrade itself. Back in 2001, the first ever Belgrade Pride was left unprotected by the police, which resulted in participants being violently attacked. In 2009, when activists renewed their wish to have a Pride, the city of Belgrade was plastered with homophobic graffiti and death threats to participants. Eventually the police banned the event. This ban led to significant international pressure, and the state subsequently supported a 2010 Pride, yet as I argue in my  book, Coming in: Sexual politics and EU accession in Serbia, the state also allowed counter mobilisation and the ensuing riots to occur. While Pride participants were kept safe, the kind of violence extremist were capable off was undeniable. And indeed, in each of the following three years, the Serbian government banned Pride at the last minute. In 2013, activists protested the third consecutive ban by staging a spontaneous protest under the banner ‘This is Pride’.

During the period in which Pride was banned, Serbia was also engaged in EU-mediated negotiations with Kosovo to come to an agreement over normalising their relations. Throughout, the Serbian state and nationalist actors were very clear that you cannot have Pride when relations with Kosovo – an important symbol in Serbian nationalism – are under threat. At the time, the EU was more focused on ensuring no new conflict would ignite in the region and remained relatively quiet on the Pride bans; they ‘regretted’ that security threats were such that Pride could not happen. It was only after a deal was reached between Kosovo and Serbia in 2013 that the EU changed its tone and for the first time criticised Serbia for banning Pride and for the lack of political will that allowed the ban to happen. From 2014 onwards Belgrade Pride happened yearly without noteworthy incidents.

Why does this history matter, you may ask. For someone who has been researching LGBT rights in Serbia for a decade, the last several months have shown familiar patterns of actions and hinted at different ways in which history was repeating itself. In the months leading up to this event, the level of public homophobia has increased significantly, with the level of public opposition in ways similar to 2009/10. A Serbian Orthodox bishop even made a public call for violence. However, unlike in the past, and even somewhat surprisingly, Vučić has publicly condemned this violence and the nationalist opposition to EuroPride. Because of these statements, the announcement that he wanted to ban Pride was a curveball I had not expected. With the benefit of hindsight, one could say the earlier statements were made in ways to cover himself and thus creating a political climate in which he could announce the so-called cancellation. But it was only later that day, when it became public that Serbia had just agreed a new deal with Kosovo, whereby Serbia would recognise Kosovo-issued documents, that it all made sense. Once again, and much in the spirit of the events between 2011 and 2013, a trade off was made between Pride and Kosovo.

In one day, Vučić had managed to escape any criticism of being a homophobe (by appointing Ana Brnabić), while also ensuring that the deal he had just made with Kosovo would be drowned out of the news cycle by cancelling the EuroPride.

In the days and weeks to follow, Vučić has remained adamant that any cancellation of Pride would be enforced. In doing so, he has also been very quick to point out that he has been resisting pressure from international actors, including President Biden and the EU. This international pressure has not only been through statements and diplomatic channels but has also included a significant increase of international high-level delegations deciding to join Pride.

This is quite significant, and it also helps to explain why the so-called cancellation was announced so early. It seems that Vučić was counting on the international outrage, because it de facto absolved him of responsibility for the event to happen. Indeed, in one statement, he managed not only to distract the nationalist movement from the deal with Kosovo, but also firmly laid responsibility for Pride with the EU and other international actors. He furthermore showed his support for Serbian nationalism and traditional values, while also avoiding international criticism of homophobia by using Ana Brnabić as a metaphorical queer shield.

 
What can we expect for Saturday
 
Does Vučić still intend to ban Pride? We won’t know until Wednesday if the march is due to take place (any ban needs to be announced no later than ninety-six hours prior to the event). But if we consider what Vučić has to gain from banning Pride, one can conclude that banning the parade might be too politically costly for the president. Over the last decade, Vučić has crafted a reputation of being a strong man, a do-er, a reformer who gets things done. A ban, then, would not only severely undermine this image, but it would also draw too much attention to areas where the reforms he has made on paper did not lead to actual results or improvements.
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Thus while I deem it more likely for the parade to happen than not, the question remains what the circumstances will be in which Pride takes place. And here the real question is how much violence would be beneficial for Vučić. Perhaps I let my scepticism of Serbian and Vučić’s politics speak too much, but I do not think it will be without incidents. Speaking to some activists involved in the local helpline, there is an increased sense of insecurity among LGBT people, and many seem to feel there is a likelihood of violence. I would tend to agree.

Much like in 2010, when the state allowed Pride but equally allowed for the riots to happen, a similar situation seems to be emerging. However, a complete repeat of 2010 is unlikely. Instead, violence will take place as relatively small, yet severe enough, clashes between police and protesters. And of course, participants of the parade will be kept safe – in big part thanks to the international delegations, which force the government to provide additional security to avoid any international and diplomatic embarrassments. This distinction is important, because too much violence and uncontrolled rioting (as in 2010) would undermine authorities and raise questions about the power of Vučić and the government.

Why do I still think there will be some violent protests and some incidents between police and nationalist extremists, you may ask. Again, it all relates to the message sent by these incidents. Incidents which are violent enough, yet not at a scale that would hint at a powerless and incapable state apparatus, would support Vučić’s announcement that there were too many security risks (the 'I told you so moment'), as well as providing a good excuse to return to bans in the future. Moreover, by keeping the participants safe, Vučić can still claim a victory for the state, while, as happened in 2010, shifting blame for the violence to the EU and other international actors.

Originally Published on Balkanist (http://balkanist.net/belgrade-pride-2014-where-there-is-a-need-there-is-tolerance/)

After this year’s peaceful Pride Parade, it will be difficult for the Serbian state to cite “security risks” as a reason to ban it.
On September 28th, it appeared that Belgrade finally shook off the violent images associated with the 2010 Pride Parade. Unlike that year, when the Pride was followed by riots that destroyed significant parts of the city, the 2014 Belgrade Pride – the first of its kind after three consecutive years of last-minute bans – went on without any major incidents. In a peaceful and colorful bubble protected by 7,000 riot policemen, a group comprised of one thousand LGBT people, their friends and allies took to the streets. With the mayor of Belgrade, some opposition politicians and four ministers present, it may have been tempting to conclude that the tide had turned for LGBT people in Serbia, that the organizers of Pride, after three years of struggling, had finally won over the Serbian political elite, or to put it in the words of EU Commissioner for Enlargement Stefan Füle, that the Pride was “a milestone in the modern history of democratic Serbia, [which marked a] substantial improvement towards the effective exercise of LGBTI rights”.
However, it is more likely that the Serbian political elite does not see the point of the Belgrade Pride parade, which deeply divides Serbian society, and that they would rather the event not happen at all. As politicians’ views have not changed significantly in the last year, the question remains, “what makes 2014 different? Why can Serbia have a secure, ‘peaceful’ Pride, where it failed to do so in previous years?” One answer to this question is that Serbian politicians (and by extension its so-called “hooligans”) “tolerated” the 2014 Belgrade Pride with an eye on the bigger political goals of Serbia, i.e. its path to the EU.
Throughout its history, the Belgrade Pride has always been dependent on the sensitive calculations of the political elite to balance Serbia’s EU perspective with domestic political goals (the Kosovo issue in particular, but not exclusively).
After two failed attempts in 2001 and 2004, Serbian LGBT activists were encouraged enough by the adoption of EU-required anti-discrimination legislation to retry organizing Belgrade Pride in 2009. However, after threats of violence by extreme right groups and despite state assurances that the Pride Parade would receive the necessary police protection, the state decided 24 hours before the event that Pride could not happen in the center of Belgrade and should be moved to the periphery of the city. Activists interpreted this government decision as a de facto ban of Pride and a state capitulation to the extreme right, and consequently decided to cancel the event. As this first ban was met with criticisms from the EU, the pro-EU government in 2010 needed to show Serbia was serious about its “path to the EU”. The focus on security issues in the debates surrounding the 2009 Pride, furthermore, created a domestic need to maintain the Pride Parade. The government needed to regain public support by illustrating that security was being taken seriously and that the state was able to protect it citizens. The final push in favor of the 2010 Pride Parade was the fact that the government was able to use the EU pressure to externalize responsibility for Pride: it could blame the EU for the event and its consequences domestically, while in the international arena it could claim credit for allowing the Parade, which was quickly labelled the first successful Pride in Serbia.
The next few years, the benefits of staging a Pride Parade did not outweigh the costs for the Serbian elites. With conflicts at the Kosovo border in 2011 and upcoming elections, the political elite did not see any benefit in supporting Belgrade pride. At the international level, the EU signalled with its positive opinion on Serbian application for membership and the prioritization of the normalization of Serbia-Kosovo relations in the enlargement strategy, that for the time being the EU would turn a blind eye to bans of the Pride Parade — as long as progress was made in other, ostensibly more important, areas. Similar calculations were made in 2012 and 2013. The EU responses to bans of the Pride Parade were rather mild, and within the enlargement process, Serbia was rewarded for it progress on the Kosovo issue, with the Brussels agreement between Belgrade and Pristina (April 2013) and the opening of accession negotiations with Serbia (January 2014) as the key turning points.
Why did the Serbian government opt not to ban the Pride this year? In many ways the political situation compares to that of 2010, however, some difference on the domestic level can be discerned.
At the international level, we find that just like in 2010, there has been increased pressure from the EU to proceed with Pride. After the Brussels agreement and the EU’s decision to open accession negotiations with Serbia, the European Commission for the first time explicitly condemned the Serbian government’s lack of political will to go ahead with the Pride Parade in its 2013 progress report. Additionally, in the 2013-2014 enlargement strategy paper, the EU identified LGBT rights (along with the Pride Parade) as a key priority area in the assessment of fundamental rights in candidate countries for the first time. With these two documents, European pressure on Serbia to maintain Pride in 2014 increased substantially. The attack on the German participant of an LGBT conference in Belgrade two prior to the Pride Parade intensified international focus on this year’s Pride Parade.
Domestically, the political situation was favorable for a Pride Parade as well. With a landslide victory in the May elections, Prime Minister Vučić did not have to worry about any upcoming elections or any other immediate costs associated with the Pride Parade. Furthermore, the three previous bans – based on security risks – again raised questions as to whether or not the state was capable of protecting its own citizens. Contrary to 2010, when the Pride Parade was framed as an EU requirement, Vučić made this year’s event about security. Days before the event took place he said, “I respect the constitutional obligations of the state and it is my obligation to guarantee safety and security to all citizens.” Rather than externalizing responsibility for the Pride parade, the current PM made sure a successful pride would be regarded as his victory, a showcase of his ability to make Serbia a country that respects its constitution and the rule of law. At the same time, however, Vučić made it clear – most likely to reduce the political damage the Pride might have caused – that he did not necessarily support the event, emphasizing that he would not attend it and that there were more important issues for Serbia (e.g. the recent floods).
The final difference between 2010 and 2014 is the lack of violence. Apart from some minor disturbances (the attack on B92’s offices and the torched bus were the worst examples), the streets of Belgrade remained peaceful. Even the protest walk after the Pride happened without any incidents (apart from homophobic and nationalistic chanting). The lack of violence again raises questions (which I cannot answer here) about the link between the Serbian state and so-called hooligans, which are used by the state as an informal security apparatus and a tool to pressure the EU. Whilst the outburst of violence and the threats to national security were beneficial for the Serbian state to pressure the EU to give Serbia more leeway on other issues (such as Kosovo; see Nielsen [2013]), such violence would not have benefitted the state this year. And indeed violence remained largely absent. Whereas Dveri (one of the right wing organizations) warned the government in May that Pride might lead to “war on the streets of Serbia”, their protests last weekend remained peaceful. 1389, another right wing organization associated with previous anti-gay attacks, even explicitly called upon protesters to refrain from violence this year. Although there is no hard evidence linking the state and these right-wing organizations, the reduced security threats and the fact that Vučić thanked those opposing the Pride Parade for refraining from engaging in violence and for their understanding of Serbia’s position in a press conference after Pride. This does suggest that the state was able to “convince” these right-wing, patriotic groups that violence would not be beneficial for Serbia or the groups themselves. (For more on this topic, see Rory Archer).
In summary, it can be said that rather than allowing the Belgrade Pride, both the state and the so-called hooligans “tolerated” it for the sake of Serbia’s interests, i.e. its European Path. While this might mean that the factual victory of the Pride organizers over the State and their aggressors is only minimal, the symbolic gains are far more elaborate. In the years to come it will be difficult for the Serbian state to cite “security risks” as a reason to ban the Pride parade. The precedent created by this year’s event and continued scrutiny on the part of the EU during the accession process have de facto taken away Serbia’s only legal argument to ban Pride Parades. Therefore, it is quite likely that the Belgrade Pride will gain momentum and become a recurring annual event; that is, as long as Serbia stays committed to its EU path and the state remains capable of keeping these so-called hooligans under its control.