To ban or not to ban? How uncertainty around Europride only benefits the Serbian president12/9/2022 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. 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.
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Originally Published at LSE EUROPP blog Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić has nominated Ana Brnabić as the country’s next Prime Minister. Brnabić, whose appointment is now largely a formality, will be Serbia’s first female and openly gay Prime Minister. Koen Slootmaeckers argues that while many observers outside the country have portrayed the appointment as a step forward for LGBT rights in Serbia, the decision says far more about Vučić’s attempts to advance the country’s EU accession process.
The news that Serbia is set to have its first openly gay and female Prime Minister has generated a response from the global LGBT community and Western media that can best be described as ecstatic. As the news developed on the evening of 15 June, my Twitter and Facebook feeds were overwhelmed with people congratulating Serbia for this ‘historic’ appointment: a double first for the county. Many media outlets noted that given less than a decade ago the 2010 Pride parade in Serbia was marred by riots, the appointment of Ana Brnabić demonstrates remarkable progress for the country. As the BBC put it, “Just a few years ago, the appointment would have been unthinkable. But EU hopeful Serbia can present it as proof of increasing tolerance.” And although the BBC remained cautious in its interpretation of the political meaning of the appointment, its local correspondent, Guy De Launey, argued that the symbolism of Brnabić’s appointment carries real weight. Whilst the EU has not yet formally commented on the developments, one can anticipate Serbia will be commended for their progress on LGBT rights. Indeed, already on Friday, the European Parliament Intergroup on LGBTI Rights, shared the news on its Facebook page as “Wonderful news from Serbia”. However, should we really consider the appointment as proof of the progress made in Serbia? When the appointment is placed in its full context, the answer is arguably no. Tactical Europeanisation I would not wish to claim that the appointment of an openly LGBT person as Prime Minister has no positive implications for LGBT people in Serbia. One can optimistically imagine, for instance, that it sends a message to LGBT people that they can make it professionally in Serbian society even if they are open about their sexuality. But it is important to be cautious with such interpretations, particularly if we are to take these political developments as proof of Serbia’s progress from a country where less than a decade ago LGBT people were beaten on the streets while organising a pride parade. Indeed, rather than taking this development at face value and considering it as a sign of Serbia’s progress in LGBT rights, the appointment of Brnabić is a continuation of Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić’s politics of tactical Europeanisation. Under this approach, LGBT issues are used to speak to the EU’s self-proclaimed LGBT-friendly identity without engaging with LGBT issues domestically. In the past, and again with the appointment of Brnabić, international observers have often responded to small improvements in LGBT rights with great enthusiasm, as if every small step taken in the Serbian context towards the protection of LGBT people represents a major shift in the country – moving from backwards and homophobic to modern and LGBT friendly. Such a superficial reading not only reifies a problematic East-West dichotomy, but more importantly, it hides the underlying politics in which LGBT rights have been instrumentalised by the Serbian government to guarantee and advance Serbia’s progress in the EU accession process. Indeed, the latest developments are merely a continuation of existing practices in Serbian politics regarding LGBT issues. My research on LGBT rights in Serbia has shown that advancements in the protection of LGBT rights are to be read against the context of Serbia’s EU accession process, as ‘homonationalist’ moves to demonstrate Europeanness without engaging with the lived experiences of LGBT people in Serbia. For example, consider the anti-discrimination legislation which was adopted in 2009 as part of the EU visa liberalisation process. Despite being in place for almost a decade, the implementation of the law remains minimal. Here, the lack of political engagement and will to stop the discrimination of LGBT people is a significant barrier to the implementation. My research has shown that the institutions which are responsible for protecting citizens from discrimination (the ombudsman and the commissioner for the protection of equality) often face indirect political pressure to speak out on the topic, but not to pursue politically sensitive cases. The country’s anti-discrimination strategy (2013) and action plan (2014) remain under-implemented and little is being done to improve court practices regarding anti-discrimination cases or to improve treatment of LGBT victims by police officers. Tackling the roots of hate crimes and discrimination remains a topic that is low on the political agenda. The tactical use of LGBT rights becomes even more visible when one considers the Pride Parade events. When Pride reappeared in Belgrade in 2014, this was done with an eye on the political capital the government would gain by successfully protecting such events (as shown here and here). The return of Belgrade Pride is best understood as what can be labelled ‘tactical Europeanisation’, i.e. an act of compliance to communicate to the EU a readiness to Europeanise by aligning oneself with certain ‘European norms’. International observers have treated Pride as a litmus test for Europeanness and the protection of the 2014 and subsequent Belgrade Prides were aimed largely at advancing the EU accession process. This being the case, the uncritical engagement of international observers with Serbian LGBT politics has done a great deal of harm. While Serbia was widely commended by international observers for holding Pride events, the Pride parade itself has been ‘co-opted’ by the state, making it a ritual march void of local LGBT politics. Indeed, Vučić – who described Pride as a leisurely walk – used the event to emphasise the state’s (or his) power and sovereignty. The militarised nature of the Pride parade transformed it into a ‘Ghost Pride’, i.e. a state tolerated manifestation of Pride which takes place in a militarised ‘transparent closet’ that keeps LGBT people’s visibility strategies invisible and outside the public sphere. A real step forward? The appointment of Brnabić represents a similar instrumentalisation of LGBT issues to distract international observers from what is actually happening. Several elements of the recent developments suggest that the new PM might not have a significant impact on LGBT lives in Serbia. First, there is the fact that although Brnabić is appointed as Prime Minister, Vučić reportedly clarified that she would only lead the technical working of the government, while the current acting Prime Minister Ivica Dačić – known for his homophobic statements – is set to oversee the political workings of the new cabinet. Such a division of labour makes it relatively unlikely that the government will take tangible actions to improve LGBT people’s lived experiences. In fact, it is quite likely that Brnabić will become a shield for EU criticism on Serbia’s LGBT record. And in all likelihood, the EU will fall for it, as how can one perceive a country with a gay Prime Minister to be homophobic? Aside from the international politics underlying the appointment, there is little hope that the new Prime Minister will improve the lives of LGBT people in Serbia. Although she may be a suitable role model for the country’s LGBT population, it is doubtful whether she will have a significant impact on wider attitudes towards LGBT people. In fact, the comments made on Brnabić’s sexual orientation, both by herself and Vučić, might actually reinforce the commonly held opinion that any discussion of sexual orientation should be kept “within four walls”. Consider, for example, the statements made when Brnabić was first appointed as a minister last year. At the time, Vučić said that he was only interested in her results and that “her personal choices” do not interest him. Similarly, she commented on the commotion around here sexuality by saying: “Hopefully this will blow over in three or four days, and then I won’t be known as the gay minister.” Although I do not want to claim that Brnabić’s sexual orientation should be made the central point of discussion, the constant displacement of it to the private sphere does not help in overcoming the stigma that exists in Serbia around LGBT issues. Against this background, the appointment of Brnabić should be welcomed with some healthy scepticism and should not be taken as more than it is. It is a politically symbolic appointment, but we should wait for concrete achievements on the ground before we conclude that Serbia has made progress in protecting LGBT people. I would urge those observing Serbia from a distance (also those within the European institutions) to listen more closely to individuals who have been engaged in analysing Serbia’s politics in greater detail. Indeed, many of those with greater proximity to the topic have argued that appointing Brnabić not only contributes to the further consolidation of Vučić’s semi-authoritarian power, but also serves as a smoke screen to divert attention away from the increasing democratic backsliding within the country. Hopefully the coming months and years will prove this scepticism wrong, but it is about time international observers realise that symbolic politics are just that, symbolic. |
Dr Koen SlootmaeckersSenior Lecturer in International Politics at City, University of London. Writes about LGBT politics In Serbia. Archives
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