Category: Politics

Belgrade’s Balancing Act

by Fyodor Dmitrenko

Andrej Isakovic/AFP via Getty Images, Politico.eu

On my recent visit to Serbia in July of 2024, on the way from the airport to the centre of Belgrade alongside the stark Genex tower, I witnessed an interesting display. The highway to the centre was lined with small Serbian tricolour flags but also a stranger sight – that of a line of equally numerous blue flags with yellow stars. 

While seeing EU flags in Paris or Bucharest wouldn’t be that strange, their presence in Belgrade mere blocks from the location of the Yugoslav Ministry of Defence Building damaged in the NATO bombings of 1999 seemed bizarre, especially considering many Serbs still feel lukewarm at best towards EU member states like Germany, France, and Italy who participated in the air campaign against them – a sentiment illustrated clearly by the fact that EU accession is still seen more negatively in Serbia than in their Western Balkan neighbours according to IRI, with 44% of poll respondents stating they would vote in favour of joining, compared to 89% in Kosovo and 92% in Albania more than 2 decades after the event. So, what was going on? 

Unbeknownst to me, the flags had been put up for an interesting ‘trade summit’ on July 19th between German chancellor Olaf Scholz and Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić which led to the re-opening of the Jadar valley lithium mine project in Western Serbia by British-Australian mining and refining firm Rio Tinto. According to Reuters, this project could fulfill up to 90% of Europe’s current lithium needs, a material used in the manufacturing of lithium-ion batteries and thus critical to the Union’s aim of achieving net zero emissions by 2050. This also falls in line with other major EU objectives such as the current endeavour at securing more secure raw material procurement from partners – due to mistrust of Chinese suppliers and volatile supply chains owed to waning European influence in African nations like Niger – and playing catch-up to China and the US in high tech industries such as the manufacturing of electric vehicles. 

I found the reopening of the mine project especially interesting given that less than 2 years ago, Serbia had shut down the project after mass protests over environmental concerns. The complete U-turn in policy has unsurprisingly raised eyebrows yet also revealed an increasing trend in Serbian politics – a desire to mend ties with the EU. 

Despite the aforementioned mistrust towards the EU from the Serbian population (one further supported by a similar 2024 poll by Balkan Barometer), Vučić seems increasingly interested in developing ties, in large part due to the economic payoffs that these could yield. 

The most prominent manifestations of this interest are Serbia’s repeated attempts to join the Union itself, with its first formal request being submitted on the 22nd of December 2009. The EU granted Serbia official candidate status in 2012 following recommendations from both the European Commission and Council to do so. A further step towards closer integration has come in the form of the recently ratified Stabilisation and Association Agreement (SAA) establishing a framework to bring the country into closer political and economic relations with the bloc. 

The main drivers for this shift in policy appear to be the economic incentives offered by both membership of and outside forms of economic cooperation with the EU. For example, the EU has invested heavily in Serbia as part of official multilateral aid initiatives like the Instrument for Pre-Accession Assistance II (IPA II) – a financial policy tool used to support countries aspiring to join the union, with 1.5 billion Euros in grants being made available to the country between 2012 and 2022 according to the Delegation of the EU to Serbia, and significant private sector support for Serbia’s economy with the EU being Serbia’s largest trade partner with $4bn (13.2%) worth of its exports going to Germany alone in 2022 according to OECD data. Furthermore, without Serbia’s being a member of the Union, travel for Serbian nationals in the EU was made visa free from December 2009, with Serbia returning the favour shortly thereafter, making cross border exchanges significantly easier and thereby supporting labour migration and creating a system of remittances that have supported EU soft power in Serbia.

Another example of more symbolic political engagement with the EU has been Serbia’s toeing of the EU foreign policy line vis-à-vis the Russian war in Ukraine, a feat notable given Serbia’s initial support of the Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014. Serbia furthermore voted to suspend Russian membership of the UN human rights council in April 2022, a move which shows a general trend of Serbia’s distancing itself from Russia in favour of closer ties with the EU.

And yet cosying up to the EU doesn’t mean Serbia has abandoned ties with its traditional partners – if anything it has intensified them. This is especially true for relations with the People’s Republic of China (PRC). The root of the recent relationship stems from the 1990s when China supported SFR Yugoslavia which would later become Serbia against the NATO bombing campaign because, as Peking University and University of California San Diego graduate Dr. Suizheng Zhao points out, it saw the NATO-backed secession of Kosovo as a dangerous precedent that could inspire armed separatism in the provinces of Tibet and Xinjiang as well. The stance of China was further intensified by the destruction of the PRC embassy in Belgrade which killed 3 Chinese nationals, and injured a further 20 others. 

Since then the two have cemented their relationship through political efforts including the affirmation of a strategic partnership in 2009, which was subsequently upgraded to a ‘comprehensive strategic partnership’ in 2016. This relationship and its origins were showcased recently by Chairman Xi’s visit to Belgrade in May of 2024 to commemorate the anniversary of the aforementioned NATO bombings that he said China will “never forget.”

More importantly however, China has invested heavily into economic cooperation in an official capacity with over US$10.3 billion in bilateral aid being provided between 2009 and 2021 within the China-CEEC (Central and Eastern European Countries) program alone – a whopping 70% of all spending within that initiative, and Serbia being the first country to sign a free Trade Agreement with China in October 2023, with 90% of products traded between the two parties being exempted from tariffs, 60% of which would be exempted as soon as the agreement came into effect on July 1st 2024. 

In a more unofficial, private sector capacity, Chinese firms have also invested an estimated 5.6 billion euros into the country’s economy in the last decade according to an article by Forbes Serbia published in May 2024. The latter point is especially important given that according to the same report over 1,500 companies currently operating in Serbia are majority owned by Chinese stakeholders, with Chinese entrepreneurs being involved in numerous operations including mining (‘Zijin mining’ in Bor), heavy industry (‘Hesteel’ steel making plant in Smederevo) and automotive parts (Minth factories in Šabac and Loznica). 

This is all excludes the significant foreign direct investment in Serbian infrastructure including but not limited to sections of the A2 Miloš Veliki Highway linking Belgrade with the south of the country built by publicly owned Chinese construction giants like Shandong Hi-Speed Group and China Communications Construction Company (CCCC). Cumulatively these investments (both public and private) make China the single largest investor in Serbia according to China briefing, rendering it unsurprising that the two are such cordial partners. 

Interestingly, however, Serbia has not yet cut ties with its longtime ally Russia despite statements supporting Ukraine in 2023. While bilateral relations are less manifest in recent years than those with China and the EU (at least in economic terms), the two nations still share relatively cordial relations.

Perhaps the most significant reason for this enduring bond stems from a long history of shared interests and support, with the Russian empire being a firm supporter of Slavic and Orthodox nationalist movements in the Balkans against the Ottoman empire as early as the formation of Serbia and other Balkan nations under the 1878 treaty of Berlin. 

This support would be expanded in 1914 with Russia entering WW1 in defence of Serbia against Austrian aggression, a fact that Serbs have not forgotten with Czar Nicolas being revered in Serbia as a canonised saint. Monuments distilling the centrality of Russo-Serbian relations in Serbia’s national imagination are plentiful, especially in Belgrade, in which there lie the Church of Saint Sava and a bronze statue of the Czar unveiled in November 2014, less than 100 m away from Novi Dvor, the seat of the Serbian President) in the centre of Belgrade.

While there was a partial break in relations between the two during the cold war due to SFR Yugoslavia wishing to exert greater independence from its larger communist ally following major disagreements between Tito and Stalin in 1948, relations would improve following de-Stalinisation yet remain tepid as Yugoslavia pursued a policy of non-alignment in the cold war, staying out of Soviet organisations like the Warsaw Pact and maintaining relations with Soviet rivals like the USA.

Despite this, the modern Russo-Serbian relationship would be restored and cemented due to the collective hardship endured by the simultaneous collapse of both states in the 1990s, and the NATO bombing campaign against Serbia which Russian President Boris Yeltsin called “open aggression,” according to an article by the BBC. This contributed to the development of strong bilateral relations – a trend that Vučić has worked hard to maintain despite his increasing EU alignment.

However the current relationship between Serbia and Russia rests not only on historical, but also economic and military considerations. Russia still comprises an approximate 3.95% of Serbian exports and 7.18% of imports in 2022, with crude petroleum being Serbia’s primary import from Russia, aiding in the diversification of Serbian energy sources and thus reducing its reliance on coal and hydropower. Moreover, the Serbian Armed forces use primarily former Yugoslav and Soviet military equipment and still purchase numerous weapon systems from Russian manufacturers due to their perceived reliability and similarity to weapons already in service. In this vein, Russia has also gifted Serbia several vehicles including 30 modernised T72 tank variants, 30 upgraded BRDM-2 reconnaissance vehicles and 6 MIG 29 fighter jets to facilitate military cooperation, further underscoring Russia’s vested interest in maintaining strong bilateral relations with Serbia through their combined military ties.

Given all of this information, why the idiosyncrasy? More specifically, why is Serbia trying to have a foot in all camps, a strategy which seems at odds with its strategic interests? The simplest explanation to this seems to be that Vučić is increasingly trying to leverage Serbia’s historical connections and geographical position at the centre of the Western Balkans to make Serbia a ‘middle power’ – a sort of geopolitical conduit and client state between the EU, Russian, and Chinese blocs while asserting Serbia’s independence and deriving certain benefits, such as diversified sources of investment. 

Whether this will continue to work in the future is debatable, given the increasing polarisation of the world order into geostrategic blocs like those of the EU and China and its allies, each with their own (possibly competing) supranational structures. One day Serbia may be forced to choose a side, but for now it seems set to continue the balancing act, walking a tightrope between the national interests of Russia, China, and the EU. After all, why should a nation limit itself to one partner, when it can have its cake and eat it too?

The Sama Dilaut: Nomads of the Seas

By Gemma Tabet

Today, the Sama Dilaut or Sea Nomads, remain one of the world’s last ethnic communities living solely on water. For centuries they have made their livelihood amongst the seas of Maritime Southeast Asia, travelling between the coasts and islands of Malaysia, Indonesia, and the Philippines (Lenhart, 1995). They rely on sea-based activities, such as fishing and trade, and live on their boats (called lepa) or on stilt houses above water (Borneo History, 2017). The Sama Dilaut even developed unique skills that allowed them over the centuries to live in harmony with their aquatic environment. For example, they developed physical advantages such as a 50% increase in spleen size, allowing them to stay underwater for 10 minutes at a time at depths of 70 metres (Sieber, 2023). But modern times have brought harsh challenges, from over-tourism to climate change, that threaten the Sama Dilaut’s centuries-old way of life. 

The Sama Dilaut peoples are part of a larger ethnolinguistic group known as Sama, which consists of two other categories: the land-based Sama Dileya/Dea and coastal Sama Lipid/Bihing (Maglana, 2016). Commonly, these populations fall under the category “Sama-Bajau”, but many groups self-designate themselves using toponyms based on place of origin (Maglana, 2016), such as Sama Sitangkai (Sama of Sitangkai Island). Further distinguishing this community is the presence of 10 major languages and a variety of religious systems (Maglana, 2016). The Sama Dilaut, unlike their land-based counterparts, are less influenced by Islam (the main religion in the region today), due to the remaining impacts of ancestral beliefs based on animism (Saat, 2003). The exact land origins of the Sama Dilaut remain still unclear, but first references can be traced back to 840 CE in the Darangen (Borneo History, 2017), an epic oral poem by the Maranao (an Islamic cultural-linguistic group in the Philippines), which mentions a love story between a Sama Dilaut princess and Maranao prince. Since then, the Sama Dilaut have settled in the waters surrounding Sabah, the Sulu Archipelago, Sulawesi, Maluku, and Nusa Tengarra (Lenhart, 1995), leading to a unique cultural identity tied to the seas.

Yet today, this historic culture and community face modern challenges linked to political marginalisation, discrimination (Moreno, 2023), and environmental degradation (Musawah, 2024), that threaten to erase centuries of traditional knowledge and practices. 

The marginalisation of the Sama Dilaut can be traced back to European colonial rule, which led to the establishment of maritime borders that disrupted the Sama Dilaut´s way of life (Sieber, 2023). For example, trade networks for the procurement and exportation of turtle shells, sea cucumbers, and general fishing existing since 1000 BCE (Jeon, 2019) were no longer viable, greatly affecting one of the main sources of income for the community. The Sama Dilaut have only further lost access to their traditional fishing sites, exacerbating their economic vulnerability and contributing to rising levels of poverty (Moreno, 2023). Particularly, the modern ´stateless status´ of the Sama Dilaut has increased levels of alienation and marginalisation by limiting their legal privileges (Moreno, 2023). Due to unclear legislation distinguishing asylum seekers, irregular migrants, and undocumented or stateless individuals, Sama Dilaut are not often granted citizenship (Sieber, 2023). For example, in the Philippines the Indigenous People´s Act (Act No. 8371) covers only peoples from ancestral lands and not oceanic waters. This reflects the wider political realities the community is subjected to, leading to direct lack of access to essential services, such as education, formal employment, and healthcare (Sieber, 2023).

Beyond a lack of legal recognition and policies for ensuring the economic and political protection of this vulnerable ethnic minority, the Sama Dilaut face centuries old discrimination that has eroded their culture and traditional knowledge (Moreno, 2023). The Sama Dilaut in the Sulu Archipelago are still today victims of historic cultural prejudice (Saat, 2023) originating from dominant land-based groups (like the Tausūg, a Muslim ethnic group in the Philippines and Malaysia). These groups viewed boat dwelling and un-Islamic animism practices as inferior and uncivilised, earning the Sama Dilaut a low social status (Saat, 2003). For example, the Tausūg people have a derogatory name for the Sama Dilaut that translates to “spat out” (Nimmo, 1968). This history of discrimination still ripples into the modern world, leading to the cultural assimilation of the Sama Dilaut, who more and more migrate to land, abandoning their sea-faring way of life (Sieber, 2023). A rising number of Sama Dilaut have converted to Islam over the years (Maglana, 2016), a key example of cultural conformation due to social pressure. The preservation of the Sama Dilaut´s unique customs has severely declined, impacting their traditional languages, religions, and practises. 

Moreover, the nomadic ways of the Sama Dilaut have further been challenged by overfishing and climate change (Musawah, 2024). Due to their economic difficulties, many Sama Dilaut have small and underdeveloped boats and fishing tools (Jeon, 2019, pg. 50), already placing them at a disadvantage when competing with modern fishing corporations. Climate change has only exacerbated the situation, leading to ocean acidification that causes fish migration, forcing various Sama Dilaut to settle on land as they lose access to their primary source of livelihood (Musawah, 2024). There, they may turn to seaweed farming, but because of exploitation by intermediaries, the Sama Dilaut fail to earn enough income (Musawah, 2024). In their struggle against poverty, some Sama Dilaut introduce chemicals and fertilisers into their farming, harming sea life and their own connection to the ocean (Musawah, 2024). The Sama Dilaut are placed further at risk due to extreme weather changes caused by global warming, such as rising sea levels and typhoons (Moreno, 2023). 

In conclusion, it is evident that the Sama Dilaut face a variety of challenges that threaten to erode and erase their nomadic cultures and lives. From political marginalisation and discrimination rooted in the past, to modern perils caused by climate change, the Sama Dilaut are socially, politically, and economically vulnerable. These indigenous peoples have centuries old knowledge of currents, marine ecosystems, star charts, and wind patterns (Maglana, 2016, pg. 78) that could be critically important for better understanding the impacts of and solutions to climate change. A variety of organisations have worked over the years to ensure the political and socio-economic protection of the Sama Dilaut. For example, Rosalyn Diwala´s Indigenous Children’s Learning Centers aim to organise education courses led by native teachers for Sama Dilaut children. On a larger scale, in February 2024, during the World Conference on Statelessness, an understanding was made between the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia to address the Sama Dilaut situation. More concentrated efforts and policies to deal with the specific plights faced by this community are needed urgently, in order to ensure the preservation of not only a unique culture, but to also ensure the protection of a critically vulnerable ethnic community. 

Disclaimer: As a student, I don’t have the full capacity nor time to delve into the complexities of each ethnic community. My intention is to create a space dedicated to introducing readers to different minorities and their plights, to raise awareness and to encourage further readings into such topics.

Cabinet Wilders I: An Inward Looking Netherlands?

By Rita Zeefal

Something is brewing in the Hague. The 17th of September marked the beginning of the Dutch parliamentary calendar and, for the first time since the Second World War, a hard-right government assumed the seat of the executive. Geert Wilders, a long-time vindicator of the European populist right, is in prime position to shape the next few years of Dutch interior and foreign policy. Wilders’ Party for Freedom (PVV) controls the key ministries needed to advance its agenda of “putting the Dutch first again” and intends, among other things, to opt out of European Union (EU) asylum treaties and make it harder for non-citizens in the Netherlands to acquire housing, citizenship, and welfare assistance, among other things. 

Wilders’ government, headed by the unaffiliated former civil servant Dick Schoof, is already in the process of passing an Emergency Asylum Act that will allow the government to pass asylum laws without the approval of parliament. While some of these moves might just be pure politicking, there is real unease about what the incoming Dutch government might mean for business, relations with Brussels, and rule of law in the country.

The far right in the Netherlands has never been as successful as it has over the past fifteen years. Much of this can be attributed to Geert Wilders’ political credibility: unlike the leaders of previous far right and fascist parties in the Netherlands (like Hans Janmaat of the now defunct Dutch Centre Party), Wilders has been a career politician for the greater part of thirty years. A self-described “right-wing liberal,” Wilders cut his teeth in the centre-right People’s Party for Freedom and Democracy (VVD), and was at one point tipped to become its leader before losing out to Mark Rutte in the mid 2000s. Unlike right-wing populists in Poland or Italy, Wilders is sufficiently supportive of LGBTQ+ and reproductive rights, which he sees as being at the heart of Dutch tolerance culture. Unlike Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National or Austria’s Freedom Party, Wilders and his party have no Nazi history to shirk or political credibility to prove – they simply had to wait for the right moment to be embraced by a disaffected electorate. And such a moment came in the form of the November 2023 general election in the Netherlands, which was preceded by the VVD’s Dilan Yesilgöz’s removing a longstanding cordon sanitaire that had been levelled against the PVV for the greater part of the 2010s. Yesilgöz stated plainly before the election that her party would be open to forming a government with Wilders’ PVV. 

The PVV seems to be a party that seeks to turn the Netherlands in on itself. Its 2023  election manifesto blames the country’s longstanding housing crisis on asylum seekers, who constitute the vast minority of people who migrate to the Netherlands annually. Unlike the far right in countries like France and Italy who tend to clean up their image and mollify their message the closer they get to power, the PVV has stood firmly behind some of its most hard-line policies in recent times. The party’s prior-mentioned election manifesto advocated for the development of “denaturalisation” processes so as to make possible the deportation of recently naturalised citizens deemed “undesirable.” The new government seeks to make Dutch the primary language of higher education in the Netherlands to ward off international students. The repercussions of such political positions and the policies that they would help create over the next few years could resound sharply in the worlds of commerce, academia, and labour for years to come.

Indeed, policies that are set to hinder international flows of human capital are already ruffling the feathers of those at the helm of the Netherlands’ most valuable companies. In March of this year, the outgoing Minister of Economic Affairs Micky Adriaansens met with former CEO of ASML Peter Wennink to address the company’s plans to move its operations out of the Netherlands should migratory regulations in the country become too strict. ASML is Europe’s most valuable tech company, and it currently has a workforce of over 40 000 employees comprising over 143 nationalities. Being home to cutting edge firms and having a vibrant economy are realities that every country aims to maintain; however, the rise of the populist right in the Netherlands has put the country’s government between a rock and a hard place. De-internationalising the Netherlands and making it harder for workers from the rest of the world to gain access to living requirements could pose a dire threat to the friendly business environment the country has prided itself on for so long.

A brief look at history shows that the Netherlands’ openness to the outside world has been a cornerstone of its success for centuries. According to scholars like the University of Amsterdam’s Geert Janssen, the United Provinces, which later became the Dutch Republic, became a magnet for the religiously persecuted of Europe in the wake of the Reformation and the Spanish Inquisition. Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews, Flemish Protestants, English Puritans, and French Huguenots migrated in the hundreds of thousands, to such an extent that over the course of the 17th century, 40 to 60 percent of the population of major Dutch cities like Amsterdam and Leiden was made up of foreign-born inhabitants. In more recent times, the Netherlands has been at the forefront of European integration and still engages with the world beyond its metropolitan shores. It was a founding member of the European Coal and Steel Community and is bound by international law. It still administers overseas territories. The Netherlands has, for the greater part of its history, never been a country to shut itself off from the world. 

The populist right in the country positions itself as the chief protector of core Dutch values and traditions like social liberalism and Zwarte Piet (a Dutch Christmas blackface tradition), from the supposed evils of Islam and woke-brainwashing. But are not the rule of law, international collaboration, compromise, and pragmatism just as, if not more, central to the country’s identity and success over the centuries?

The new Dutch government’s ability to execute its mandate remains to be proved. For now, politicking seems to be at the top of the ministerial agenda. On the 18th of September, Marjolein Faber, the Netherlands’ Minister for Asylum and Migration, informed the European Commission of her government’s wish to opt out of the EU’s new Migration and Asylum pact, to which the Netherlands is already a signatory. What might not be readily apparent to the casual reader of this story is that this was a move with almost no chance of initiating real change in the Netherlands’ relationship with Brussels. The clumsily written letter itself acknowledges that an opt out for the Netherlands would only be possible in the event of treaty amendment, and amendment of EU treaties after they have been approved and have come into effect happens exceedingly rarely, if at all. Furthermore, Faber ought to have sent the letter to the Council of the European UnionEuropean Council – not the European Commission. This proves to be the first in a series of gaffes that seem  on course to typify the far-right’s first stab at governing the Netherlands.

On the whole, the rise of the populist right in the Netherlands serves as another theatre of shallow politicking addressed to a weary electorate. But if the country wants to retain its status as a magnet for talent, a hub of innovation, and a place where business thrives, it might have to come up with solutions that go beyond what Wilders and his ministers are putting on the table. 

G2+1= pizza!

HD organizes conference with Dean Stéphanie Balme to discuss the role of Europe in Taiwan Strait Sovereignty issue

“In Le Havre, I feel like home”. With this kind remark, Stéphanie Balme began her speech to an Amphi crowded with students who listened attentively, a slice of pizza in their hands, as though “they were in a movie”, as the speaker said.

Continue reading “G2+1= pizza!”