How long does it take for a wound to heal?
There have been protests in Serbia for more than 100 days. The collapse of a concrete canopy at the Novi Sad railway station, which tragically killed 15 people, sparked mass demonstrations across the country. (As irozhlas.cz reports, the slogan ‘corruption kills’ is heard at every demonstration.)
These protests have been primarily initiated by students, with more and more people joining them. By early February, tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people were already demonstrating. Accountability for the tragedy remains elusive, and even the resignation of Prime Minister Milos Vučević has failed to calm the situation. President Aleksandar Vučić has accused Western countries of interference, downplaying the protestors’ efforts.
Thousands of protesters have united against the suffering and dysfunctional system, seeking to restore justice in the country. The disaster that claimed 15 lives seems to be the final straw. Nearly every university in Serbia is on strike. Most cultural institutions are participating in the blockade. The protests are collective and non-hierarchically organized.
The signatories of Students in Blockade shared their letter—written in December 2024—outlining the background of their protests:
How long does it take for a wound to heal?
Every wound has a different healing time, depending on the severity of the injury and its depth. For example, a bruise from being pushed away by unfamiliar people invading your space at a peaceful gathering may fade in just a few days. A scratch from being struck by an angry woman’s umbrella at that same gathering might take a week to heal. A more serious injury—a series of blows to the chest, also inflicted at that peaceful gathering by someone posing as an impatient passerby—will take even longer.
But how long does it take to heal the wounds on the conscience of those who deliberately attacked students and professors during a peaceful commemoration for the victims of a great tragedy?
I can’t answer. I hope they never heal.
At the Faculty of Dramatic Arts in Belgrade, since November 25, wounds of all kinds have been treated every day. Sometime during the second day of the faculty blockade, a sign reading ‘Pharmacy’ appeared above a corner on the ground floor of the building. It started with a couple of blisters of throat lozenges and some fever-reducing powders, but today, it holds every medicine a student in lockdown could need. A true a home pharmacy.
Fortunately, our wounds are curable. After all, we don’t treat them with medicine alone.
Across the hall from the pharmacy, there is another corner, known as the FLUX corner—for those unaware, FLUX is a long-standing audio show project curated by our students. The FLUX corner consists of several beanbags, a neon sign on the wall, and a foosball table. In the background, as expected, the latest FLUX podcast plays, which has been very active in recent weeks. Currently on air is a student-chosen music program, fitting for the blockade. A group of students is standing over the foosball table, focused on their game. They look like their biggest concern is who will win.
They look like no one is hurt, even though we know that’s not true.
To heal the injury, it’s necessary to know who caused it. Knowing that the person responsible has been held accountable can significantly speed up recovery. However, we have been waiting for that accountability since November 25.
Admittedly, it hurts. Our fight has been growing by the day, and with huge support from various people, it seems we are getting closer to our goal, but we still feel pain because of how this all began. It hurts when you calmly step into the street to observe fifteen minutes of silence and are attacked. It hurts knowing that among those attacked are your colleagues and friends. It hurts you because it hurts them; it hurts them because it hurts you. The vicious cycle of pain seems never-ending.
And there is so much to be said about the pain of injustice.
The attackers of our colleagues and professors still walk free, facing no consequences for their inexcusable behavior. The attempt to remove one of them from public office—Milija Koldžić—was shamefully unsuccessful. We’ve been denied our right to freedom of speech, freedom of thought, and freedom itself. And all this on December 10—International Human Rights Day. If a student had included such a scenario in a film exam script, they would’ve been praised for their creativity.
Despite everything, in some miraculous way, the halls of our faculty are far from gloomy. As expected, they are never empty, but beyond that, they are filled with both usual and unusual moments. Emotions run high—laughter, tears, fear, and even furious arguments over unwashed dishes in the improvised kitchen. (Perhaps certain colleagues will take this as a hint to clean up after themselves!).
Overall, the atmosphere is quite good. In fact, the people are doing well, and that’s what matters most. It’s clear that we are all hurt, that our wounds are still open, and certain news feel like salt on those wounds. We are all in pain, but we all heal each other. Without this unity and empathy, we wouldn’t be able to remain so persistent in our goals.
We’ve been asked many times how we find the strength to keep fighting. When you’re fighting for what’s right, the strength never fades.
So, how long does it take for a wound to heal? We’ll see. Our wounds are slowly healing, but that in no way means we are giving up our fight. The faculty blockade will continue until every one of our demands is met. We’ve recently heard from the highest authorities that our demands are difficult to find, so we’ll repeat them once again—so it can’t be claimed later that they were unavailable.
Our main demand is the immediate identification and sanctioning of all those responsible for the attack on students and professors in front of the Faculty of Dramatic Arts on November 22.
The authorities’ blatant disregard of our demands is our deepest wound. It will heal only when, at last, our demands are fulfilled. Then we can discuss how long it took for our wounds to heal. Until then:
ALL IN BLOCKADE!
This article was originally published in Serbian on radar.nova.rs.
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This article was published as part of PERSPECTIVES – the new label for independent, constructive and multi-perspective journalism. PERSPECTIVES is co-financed by the EU and implemented by a transnational editorial network from Central-Eastern Europe under the leadership of Goethe-Institut. Find out more about PERSPECTIVES: goethe.de/perspectives_eu.
Co-funded by the European Union. Views and opinions expressed are, however, those of the author(s) only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Commission. Neither the European Union nor the granting authority can be held responsible.
