Serbia’s leaders believe that by waging a propaganda war against Kosovo, they weaken its Prime Minister, Albin Kurti. They buy billboards abroad, amplify falsehoods on state television, and paint Kosovo as a place of chaos and repression. Yet these efforts have the opposite effect: they elevate Kurti’s standing at home and abroad — and in doing so expose the fragility of Aleksandar Vučić’s grip on power.
Vučić’s Propaganda Playbook
The methods are predictable. First, play the victim: Serbia insists it is under constant threat from Pristina. Second, personalise the campaign: Kurti is painted as a radical who persecutes Serbs. Third, export the message abroad: propaganda billboards in New York accused Kosovo of “arresting and harassing Serbian children.”
But the stunt revealed more than it concealed. A confident state does not need to invent enemies. Serbia’s obsession with Kosovo is not strength. It is a sign of insecurity.
Banjska: When Propaganda Meets Violence
The propaganda cannot be separated from real-world violence. On 24 September 2023, gunmen ambushed Kosovo Police in the village of Banjska, killing one officer. Hours later, Kosovo security forces uncovered a shocking cache: brand-new weapons straight from Serbian factories, crates of ammunition, military drones, tactical uniforms, and armored vehicles marked with false “KFOR” insignia.
This was no ragtag militia. Intelligence reports confirm the group trained in Serbia and northern Kosovo, often using monasteries and churches as cover for movements and logistics. Their leader, Milan Radoičić — then vice-president of Srpska Lista, Belgrade’s closest political arm in Kosovo — admitted responsibility. He was briefly questioned in Serbia, then released.
The message was clear: propaganda may be loud, but weapons speak louder. And the weapons in Banjska pointed directly back to Serbia.
Impunity and Political Protection
Kosovo prosecutors indicted 45 individuals for terrorism and attacks on constitutional order. Only three remain on trial in Pristina; the others are free. Interpol notices have been issued. Belgrade, despite promising Brussels it would prosecute, has not indicted Radoičić or others implicated.
Instead, reports show these same networks resurfacing at pro-government rallies in Serbia. Citizens have reported threats from men linked to Banjska, warning protesters to stay silent or face consequences. The European Union has openly expressed alarm, noting that suspects appear to be protected rather than prosecuted.
When the very individuals accused of terrorism are free to intimidate opposition supporters in Serbia, propaganda stops being just rhetoric. It becomes complicity.
The Audacity of Criticism
And yet, amid this, Serbia has the audacity to accuse Kosovo of repression. Belgrade claims Kosovo mistreats Serbs while simultaneously arming and training paramilitaries who cross the border to kill Kosovo police officers. It cries “victim” while giving sanctuary to perpetrators. It complains about human rights while using churches and monasteries to hide weapons and fighters.
For Kosovars, the hypocrisy is glaring. For the international community, the double standard is becoming impossible to ignore.
Vučić’s Domestic Crisis
Part of the explanation lies at home. Vučić faces growing unrest: mass protests triggered by corruption scandals, tragedies like the Novi Sad bus crash, and deep frustration with authoritarian rule. Instead of addressing citizens’ grievances, he turns to propaganda and nationalist theatre. Tanks parade in Belgrade, state TV blares warnings of Kurti’s “radicalism,” and the Kosovo question is weaponised to distract from Serbia’s domestic rot.
Propaganda as Weakness
There is a moral dimension here, but also a strategic one. A state that shelters terrorists while accusing others of brutality is not projecting power. It is revealing weakness. A leader who must smear his neighbour to cover up corruption at home is not strong. He is scrambling to survive.
The optics are damning: propaganda billboards in Manhattan, accusations of child arrests, armed groups hiding in monasteries, and perpetrators of terrorist attacks strolling freely at SNS rallies. This is not a picture of a confident Serbia. It is a portrait of a state sliding deeper into impunity.
What Comes Next
If Europe wants stability in the Western Balkans, it must stop tolerating these double standards. The EU has urged Serbia to bring the Banjska perpetrators to justice. That demand must be backed with pressure — otherwise Belgrade will continue to use propaganda as a shield for violence.
Kosovo, meanwhile, must continue documenting abuses, strengthening its institutions, and pressing its case internationally. The Banjska attack was not just an act of terrorism. It was proof that Serbia’s propaganda is not empty words, but part of a strategy that mixes lies with weapons.
Conclusion: Propaganda That Backfires
Serbia’s propaganda war against Kosovo is, at root, a symptom of weakness. By trying to delegitimise Kurti and portray Kosovo as lawless, Belgrade only strengthens his image as the defender of sovereignty. Worse, the evidence from Banjska — Serbian-made weapons, training camps in monasteries, and political protection for suspects — shows that Serbia is not just talking. It is actively destabilising.
But here lies the paradox. The more Serbia attacks Kosovo, the stronger Kosovo’s case becomes. The more Vučić smears Kurti, the more Kurti embodies resistance. And the more Belgrade hides behind propaganda, the more it reveals its own fragility.