Stagnation as a Strategy

Since the breakup of Yugoslavia in the 1990s, the Western Balkans have been Europe's geopolitical no-man's-land. The region regularly makes international headlines – usually when tensions erupt – but it rarely receives priority attention. The dissolution of Yugoslavia, a multiethnic state of over 22 million people, unfolded with brutal force. Nationalist ideologies, especially those fueled by Slobodan Milošević in Serbia, pitted the region’s peoples against one another, while the rest of Europe – still preoccupied with itself after the fall of the Berlin Wall – was busy enjoying its “peace dividend”. 

In the Western capitals – where decisions were still being made more often in Bonn and Paris, in London and Rome, rather than in Brussels – initial reactions were marked by incomprehension, followed by hesitation, and finally by action. But when intervention came, it was late – usually too late. And when it did happen, it was typically at Washington’s insistence.

The news and images of the massacre in Vukovar, of besieged Sarajevo, of ethnic cleansing in Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and finally in Kosovo – all of these could have been prevented if the West had acted more swiftly and decisively. The Serbian genocide against the Muslim Bosniaks in Srebrenica in 1995, which occurred under the eyes of the international community – specifically in the presence of 400 Dutch UN peacekeepers – remains an open wound to this day.

The then French President François Mitterrand flew to Sarajevo, not to help but to block NATO’s intervention against the Serbian besiegers. German Chancellor Helmut Kohl hesitated for a long time before agreeing to Germany’s participation on NATO’s side. Only the red-green coalition under Chancellor Gerhard Schröder and Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer sent German troops as part of the peacekeeping missions in the former Yugoslavia.

As hesitant and inconsistent as European policies were, it was ultimately the transatlantic cooperation between the U.S. and Europe that prevented further escalation in the Balkans and forced an end to the wars. 

As hesitant and inconsistent as European policies were, it was ultimately the transatlantic cooperation between the U.S. and Europe that prevented further escalation in the Balkans and forced an end to the wars.

The U.S. led, Europe followed, and NATO acted decisively. This cooperation also sent a geopolitical signal to Moscow, where at the time a weak President Boris Yeltsin held power—long before Vladimir Putin began projecting a neo-imperial strength as the protector of Slavic brethren in the Balkans.

After the Kosovo War – the final of the Yugoslav succession wars – in 1999, a phase of reconstruction began. Billions flowed into devastated countries and cities. International organizations and countless NGOs took on roles normally held by state administrations. The Republic of Kosovo declared independence in 2008, with strong backing from the United States.

Over one hundred countries have since recognized Kosovo, largely due to pressure from Washington. The U.S. remained present and engaged in the Balkans, serving as a guarantor of stability. The EU offered the entire Western Balkan region a membership perspective, declared almost as a sacred promise at the 2003 Thessaloniki Summit.

Many people in the Balkans placed great hope in EU accession and the return to the European family of nations. But instead of momentum, a paralyzing status quo followed. The geopolitical priorities of the U.S. shifted dramatically after September 11, 2001. The U.S. began its War on Terror – first in Afghanistan, then in Iraq, later in Syria. The Balkans became a sideshow.

Europe tried to fill the gap, sending a so-called rule-of-law mission (EULEX) to Kosovo in 2008 and mediating between Albanians and Serbs. But it lacked political clout. The EU-facilitated dialogue between Kosovo and Serbia produced reams of paper, but implementation was lacking.

The EU looks the other way – as long as Serbia doesn’t openly destabilize the region. In Bosnia-Herzegovina, Milorad Dodik, the eternal ruler of the Republika Srpska entity, faces few limits, despite regularly threatening – and effectively pursuing – the secession of the Serb region from the Bosnian state. In Montenegro, Albania, and North Macedonia, reforms come and go. Europe’s policy guideline appears to be: the Balkans are managed, not shaped.

Europe’s policy guideline appears to be: the Balkans are managed, not shaped.

Under President Barack Obama (2009–2017), the U.S. showed little interest in the Balkans, effectively handing the region over to Brussels. Only during Donald Trump's first term (2017–2021) did Washington’s Balkan policy see some motion, albeit more sporadic than strategic. In 2020, Trump invited Vučić and then-Kosovar Prime Minister Avdullah Hoti to Washington to sign an economic agreement – largely symbolic, with little real effect. The same holds for the establishment of diplomatic relations between Kosovo and Israel in 2021, brokered under U.S. pressure. 

After President Joe Biden took office in January 2021, hopes were high for a renewed American commitment to the region. While Washington did increase diplomatic activity, especially in Kosovo, the political lines were already entrenched. Kosovar Prime Minister Albin Kurti chose principles over pragmatism, refusing to compromise with Belgrade. Vučić, in turn, continued to set new conditions, block progress, and make threats – yet Brussels still celebrated him as a guarantor of stability.

Today, the situation in the Balkans is one of frozen conflicts. They are administratively managed but not substantively addressed. The dialogue between Prishtina and Belgrade has come to an end in itself: regular meetings are staged, press statements are issued, but tangible results are absent.

In Bosnia-Herzegovina, power has ossified along ethnic lines. Reforms are impossible as long as the core structure of the Dayton Agreement – which already contained these structural flaws – remains untouched. Yet no one dares to revise that framework.

Into this political vacuum step other powers. Russia exploits its historical ties with Serbia and Serbs in general, backing Vučić in Belgrade and Dodik in Banja Luka. Moscow supplies cheap energy and stirs politics in Serbia and the Republika Srpska with disinformation. China strategically invests in infrastructure and key industries, gaining economic and political leverage.

Turkey asserts its influence via cultural and religious channels, especially in Muslim-majority areas like Kosovo, Albania, and Bosniak-dominated parts of Bosnia-Herzegovina. The West offers few answers. It avoids conflict and thus avoids clarity. The result is strategic paralysis. The crisis is managed; the will to resolve it is absent.

The West offers few answers. It avoids conflict and thus avoids clarity. The result is strategic paralysis. The crisis is managed; the will to resolve it is absent.

Even international organizations such as the OSCE or the Council of Europe play only marginal roles. Their recommendations are ignored, their missions sidelined. UN representatives regularly decry obstruction and political games. No one follows a clear line or commands authority. Even where international representatives formally hold significant powers – such as the High Representative in Bosnia-Herzegovina – they fail to assert them due to lack of backing from Brussels or Washington.

Moreover, there is a lack of honest acknowledgment of the internal realities of Balkan countries. Democracy is often just a matter of form, with separation of powers a paper principle. Election outcomes are driven by media manipulation, clientelism, and intimidation. The judiciary is weak, prosecutors are politically directed. The EU is aware of this, occasionally speaks out, but rarely pushes forcefully for change – because it knows that pressure breeds resistance. The empty promise of EU accession is no longer a credible lever for reform.

Democracy is often just a matter of form, with separation of powers a paper principle. Election outcomes are driven by media manipulation, clientelism, and intimidation.

The possible return of Donald Trump introduces new uncertainties. No one knows whether Washington will re-engage with the Balkans or turn away entirely. Meanwhile, the EU remains paralyzed: the rise of right-wing populism in many member states has revived the idea of national sovereignty and pushed EU enlargement into the background. The Thessaloniki promise – EU membership for the Western Balkans – has become a hollow phrase. The credibility crisis runs deep.

A cynical conclusion suggests itself: stagnation in the Balkans is not an accident, but a strategy. As long as there is no renewed outbreak of war, the conflict can be postponed and ignored. Brussels points to Washington, Washington to Brussels. Each side shifts responsibility without taking any. In Europe’s capitals, the Balkans are considered a problem zone, but not a priority. And in Washington, the region competes for attention with global crises that promise greater returns. The Balkans are not a bridge of opportunity between East and West, but a geopolitical traffic jam.

In a political and geographical space where history is never past and identity politics can easily turn violent, inaction is not a neutral stance – it is a (dangerous) decision made every day: by looking away, by waving things through, by avoiding confrontation.

People in the region feel the indifference of their former ‘protectors’. Trust in democratic institutions is eroding. Faith in the European dream is fading.

In the past two to three years, the political landscape of the Western Balkans has further hardened – not toward integration, but toward systemic blockade. While the EU was busy dealing with its own crises – from the pandemic to recession to migration – the Balkans were left to fend for themselves.

Meanwhile, conflicts have escalated – such as in northern Kosovo, where in 2023 violent clashes erupted between Serbian paramilitaries and NATO-led KFOR troops. Washington imposed sanctions on certain Serbian actors, while Brussels – as usual – remained vague and called for “de-escalation”. But in an environment where neither side has incentives to compromise, such calls go unheard.

Vučić, for his part, repeatedly labels the Republic of Kosovo an “illegal entity” while presenting himself in the West as a guarantor of peace and stability. At the same time, he allows pro-Russian narratives and Serbian nationalism to flourish in media and education. The West’s response speaks volumes: Kurti faces pressure, including EU funding cuts and institutional blockades. Yet Vučić, despite anti-democratic tendencies, continues to be courted. This double standard is systemic.

The situation in Bosnia-Herzegovina is similarly deadlocked. Despite his attacks on the state’s integrity, Milorad Dodik was re-elected in “his” Republika Srpska – under conditions international observers deemed unfair. The EU’s reaction? More appeals. Only the U.S. imposed sanctions – though with limited impact. In both entities of the Dayton system, ethnic groups use the structure to block all progress and wield it as a political veto tool.

Stagnation does not mean stability. Stagnation is the calm before the next storm.

Albania and North Macedonia were invited to formal EU accession talks in 2022. Yet negotiations have barely progressed. North Macedonia was even forced to change its constitution to meet obscure demands from EU member Bulgaria. This is just one example of how member states with their own agendas can take accession candidates hostage. Albania, meanwhile, has made progress in talks. Parliamentary elections will be held on May 11. Both the ruling Socialists under Prime Minister Edi Rama and the opposition Democrats under Sali Berisha support rapid advancement in EU accession.

In conclusion, stagnation is clearly intentional. It allows local rulers to entrench their power and Western actors to avoid commitment. It is a policy of simulated motion, where nothing truly changes. But alternatives do exist: a credible EU accession path based on clear criteria and consequences for violations; close coordination between Washington and Brussels; a zero-tolerance approach to authoritarian tendencies. But that would require the courage to take risks instead of idolizing a false sense of stability.

The cost of stagnation is high. People in the region are losing faith in democracy and justice, in Europe and the West. Many leave not because of economic hardship, but because of lost hope. They abandon ossified political systems that the international community tolerates. Stagnation in the Balkans is not about seeking solutions—it is about buying time. But time does not heal here. It freezes conflicts, entrenches injustice, and relieves politics of responsibility. That is the real danger in the Western Balkans. And the real failure.