The exhibition, titled “Massacres in Kosovo 1998-1999”, drew from a broader body of work documenting 105 incidents. Organisers stated that only those cases supported by photographic evidence and witness testimony were included in the public display, while the full dataset appears in a 2024 publication of the same name. The initiative received financial support from Kosovo’s Assembly alongside private and international donors.

In public statements, the organisers said their work relied primarily on data compiled by the Humanitarian Law Center, led by Natasa Kandic. They noted that Kosovo institutions still lack an official, comprehensive registry of war victims, making existing datasets the only available reference.

Within t…

Read more

For a country accustomed to political turbulence, the decision was immediately cast as clarification. Yet in practice, it exposed a far more consequential struggle, one that extends beyond constitutional interpretation into the foundations of Kosovo’s political order, its reform trajectory, and its vulnerability in a volatile regional landscape.

The origins of the crisis lie in a parliamentary session on 5 March. On that day, Kosovo’s assembly convened to i…

Read more

Read more

The decision, described by officials as a de facto “non grata” designation, follows unusually sharp public criticism by Ms Gërvalla of a joint editorial by Albania’s prime minister, Edi Rama, and Serbia’s president, Aleksandar Vucic. In that article, published in a German newspaper2, the two leaders proposed a model of European Union integration that would grant Western Balkan countries access to the bloc’s single market and Schengen area without full political membership or voting rights.

For readers unfamiliar with the region, the dispute touches on a sensitive geopolitical fault line. Kosovo, that declared independence in 2008, remains unrecognised by Serbia. Albania, Kosovo’s closest ethnic and poli…

Read more

On Serbian television, a former chief of Serbia’s intelligence service calmly invoked the operational doctrine of one of the world’s most formidable clandestine organisations and asked a simple question. If Israel’s Mossad can target those it considers enemies of the state, why should Serbia not do the same.

The man making that remark was Aleksandar Vulin, a long-time political ally of Serbian president Aleksandar Vucic and until recently the director of Serbia’s Security Intelligence Agency, the BIA. In his televised appearance he spoke of individuals he described as carriers of “anti-Serbian policy”. He spoke of making plans. He spoke of identifying people by name and surname.

And then he spoke about Kosovo’s prime minister1.

“Albin Kurti,” he said, “is not afraid that anything will ever happen to him, neither to him nor to the people around him.”

For a region whose modern political history has been shaped by assassinations, secret police operations and state-sponsored violence, the meaning of that language did not require interpretation.

It sounded like a threat.

It arrived at a moment when the political architecture of Kosovo itself was already under strain. And it exposed, with unsettling clarity, the degree to which the fragile security equilibrium of the Western Balkans continues to rest on political choices made in Belgrade, Moscow and the capitals of the West.

The response that followed revealed something equally troubling.

Many of the institutions that publicly present themselves as guardians of stability in the region chose silence.

Kosovo’s own presidency offered no comment. Opposition parties that have spent two decades portraying themselves as defenders of the state issued no clear condemnation. Western diplomatic missions asked directly for comment declined to answer or avoided the substance of the question.

Only a handful of voices spoke openly.

Those voices, drawn from security analysts and political observers in Kosovo and Western Europe, describe a strategic environment in which the rhetoric emerging from Belgrade cannot be dismissed as theatrical nationalism. They argue it reflects a deeper doctrine of pressure, psychological warfare and geopolitical manoeuvre directed against the most pro-Western political leadership Kosovo has elected since independence.

And that leadership has just been reaffirmed by the electorate.

On 28 December 2025, in an election that produced one of the most decisive mandates in the country’s recent political history, the citizens of Kosovo delivered a second landslide endorsement2 to Prime Minister Albin Kurti and the reformist political movement that has governed the republic for the past six years.

Fifty-one per cent of voters supported Kurti’s leadership, confirming a clear majority mandate to continue the project of consolidating Kosovo’s democratic institutions, confronting entrenched corruption networks and aligning the country firmly with the Euro-Atlantic political order.

That democratic choice should have strengthened the stability of the young republic.

Instead, the months that followed have revealed a convergence of internal political conflict and external pressure that now threatens to reopen the very questions Kosovo believed it had settled after the war of 1999.

The latest episode began with the words of Aleksandar Vulin.

But the deeper story lies in what happened after.

Within days of Vulin’s televised remarks, Kosovo’s interior minister, Xhelal Sveçla, issued a stark warning.

“The statement of former BIA director Aleksandar Vulin, made in the context of developments in the Middle East where he refers to the Mossad model and asks ‘if Israel can do it why can’t we’, is unacceptable and deeply threatening,” Sveçla wrote in a public statement3.

“To import analogies from a conflict defined by open warfare, armed threats and declared operations against actors considered enemies, and apply them in reference to the Prime Minister of the Republic of Kosovo, Mr Albin Kurti, implies the normalisation of the logic of secret operations as a tool of threat and direct destabilisation in the Balkans.”

The warning carried particular weight because of Vulin’s history.

He is not a marginal commentator. He is a central figure in Serbia’s security establishment, a former head of its intelligence agency and a political ally whose career has long intertwined with both the Serbian presidency and Russian strategic influence in the region.

Sveçla pointed directly to that connection.

“It is well known that Aleksandar Vulin has maintained close political and institutional relations with Russia, including intelligence structures, as well as with the President of Serbia Aleksandar Vucic,” he said. “For this activity the United States has placed him under sanctions.”

Those sanctions were imposed by the U.S. Treasury in July 20234, citing allegations of corruption, organised crime links and cooperation with Russian intelligence actors.

Yet the significance of Vulin’s words lies less in the legal history surrounding him than in the strategic doctrine they reveal.

Security analysts who responded to questions for describe the remarks not as a spontaneous provocation but as part of a wider pattern of communication emerging from Belgrade.

Dr Sadri Ramabaja, a political analyst in Kosovo, argues that Vulin’s statement must be read on two levels.

“The statement by Aleksandar Vulin should be read on two levels: as an instrument of internal political rhetoric and as a signal of a broader security paradigm that is being articulated in Belgrade,” he said.

“It is not simply an isolated declaration but linked to a strategic discourse that has appeared repeatedly in Serbian politics during the past decade.”

According to Ramabaja, the rhetoric serves multiple purposes simultaneously.

It mobilises nationalist sentiment within Serbia. It strengthens the authority of the security elite. And it constructs a narrative in which Serbian political leaders portray themselves as guardians of a nation under permanent external threat.

Within that narrative, identifying individuals beyond Serbia’s borders as enemies of the state becomes politically useful.

Ramabaja describes the framework in explicitly doctrinal terms.

• The first element is the externalisation of threats, the identification of individuals outside Serbia as carriers of “anti-Serbian policy”.

• The second is the legitimisation of intelligence operations beyond national borders.

• The third is the construction of a narrative of permanent national danger.

“These elements,” he said, “are characteristic of what security studies describe as expanded ethno-national security doctrines.”

In regions where ethnic conflict has historically shaped political relations, such doctrines have often served as precursors to destabilising strategies.

Another analyst5, Dr Gurakuç Kuçi, frames the rhetoric in the language of hybrid warfare.

“Hybrid warfare begins with a narrative and psychological pressure,” he explained.

Hybrid conflict, in his analysis, begins with narrative construction and psychological pressure long before any overt confrontation takes place.

“Whenever propaganda or threatening language spreads, it indicates expansionist intentions,” Kuçi said.

The language used by Vulin, he argues, fits within a pattern of strategic communication designed to produce both internal mobilisation and external intimidation.

“From Vulin’s language we understand that their approach retains the tradition of intelligence-driven operations dating back to Yugoslavia, what was once called ‘special war’.”

The psychological objective is clear.

• Create uncertainty.

• Generate fear.

• Signal capability.

For Kosovo’s leadership, such rhetoric carries particular historical resonance.

Sveçla pointed to the legacy of political assassinations targeting Albanian activists during the Cold War period.

“Our recent history shows that Serbian intelligence structures were involved in the assassination of prominent Albanian political activists such as Jusuf Gervalla, Bardhosh Gervalla and Kadri Zeka,” he said.

“When Vulin says Serbian intelligence ‘knows how to do this’, he refers to a dangerous precedent.”

The memory of those operations forms part of a broader historical continuum.

Kosovo’s path to statehood was forged in resistance to a Serbian state apparatus that had already demonstrated its willingness to deploy violence against civilian populations6.

The revocation of Kosovo’s autonomy by Slobodan Milosevic in 1989 initiated a decade of systematic repression against the Albanian majority. Public institutions were dismantled, political representation suppressed and civil society forced underground.

The war that followed culminated in the NATO intervention of 1999 after Serbian security forces launched a campaign of mass displacement and violence against the population.

More than eight hundred thousand Kosovo Albanians were expelled from their homes in a matter of weeks.

The war ended only after seventy-eight days of NATO air strikes forced Serbian forces to withdraw.

Kosovo’s declaration of independence in 2008 represented the culmination of that long struggle.

But Serbia has never recognised it.

For Belgrade, Kosovo remains constitutionally part of its territory. For Kosovo’s citizens, independence is the foundation of their political identity.

Between those two positions lies one of the most unresolved disputes in Europe.

The present moment illustrates how fragile that equilibrium remains.

While Vulin’s rhetoric raised alarms in Pristina, Serbia has simultaneously expanded its military capabilities in ways that have unsettled neighbouring countries.

President Aleksandar Vucic confirmed in March that Serbia has acquired Chinese supersonic ballistic missiles, the CM-400 system, making it the only European country to possess them.

The missiles can strike targets hundreds of kilometres away at speeds approaching five times the speed of sound.

Their acquisition has triggered concern among regional governments, including Croatia, which has requested consultations within NATO.

Serbia insists the weapons are purely defensive. But the strategic symbolism is unmistakable.

Over the past five years, according to international arms registers, nearly two thirds of Serbia’s imported weaponry has come from China. Russian systems remain integrated into its air force and air defence networks.

The result is a military posture that increasingly blends Eastern technological partnerships with Western diplomatic engagement.

Serbia continues to negotiate accession to the European Union.

At the same time it refuses to join European sanctions against Russia and maintains deep political links with Moscow.

Vulin himself has articulated that alignment openly.

During a meeting with Russian president Vladimir Putin he declared that Serbia was not only Russia’s strategic partner but its ally, adding that Serbia would never join NATO and would never impose sanctions on Russia.

That geopolitical balancing act forms the wider context in which the current rhetoric must be understood.

For Kosovo’s government, the message is not merely rhetorical.

It is strategic.

Defence minister Ejup Maqedonci warned that Serbia’s expanding military capacity combined with its refusal to recognise Kosovo’s sovereignty creates a dangerous dynamic.

“When these developments are accompanied by direct territorial claims against Kosovo and rhetoric that denies our statehood,” he said, “they create real concerns for security and stability in the region.”

He pointed specifically to the armed attack in the northern village of Banjska in September 2023, which Kosovo authorities describe as a terrorist assault organised by Serbian-backed paramilitary structures.

“These developments clearly demonstrate that hegemonic approaches within political circles in Serbia often translate into concrete actions that endanger regional security.”

Against that background, the silence of many political actors has been striking.

Kosovo’s opposition parties, including the Democratic League of Kosovo and the Democratic Party of Kosovo, declined to respond to detailed questions regarding Vulin’s remarks.

The office of President Vjosa Osmani also provided no answer to questions asking whether the presidency viewed the statement as a direct threat against the country’s leadership.

The absence of response carries political significance.

Kosovo’s domestic political landscape has been deeply polarised since the reformist government of Albin Kurti first came to power.

Critics within the country’s old political elite have repeatedly opposed his anti-corruption agenda and his attempts to dismantle networks of patronage that dominated the post-war state.

The recent constitutional crisis triggered by President Osmani’s controversial dissolution of parliament has further deepened that division7.

But Ramabaja believes the silence of the opposition reflects more than tactical calculation.

“This silence from the opposition speaks volumes about the real situation they are going through,” he said.

He describes opposition parties as organisations that increasingly resemble economic corporations rather than political institutions, driven by internal rivalry rather than a coherent strategic vision for the state.

In such an environment, reacting strongly to threats against the government risks strengthening the very leadership they oppose.

Remaining silent avoids that dilemma. But the consequences extend beyond domestic politics.

“The silence of a segment of the political class in Kosovo may be interpreted in Belgrade as an indication of internal fragmentation,” Ramabaja said.

In international security analysis, he explains, visible internal fragmentation often creates what analysts call a “political opportunity window”.

External actors interpret division as weakness and increase pressure accordingly.

offers a similar warning.

“Situations involving threats from outside should not be treated as daily news and allowed to pass without reaction,” he said.

Threats from hostile states require at least minimal political cohesion. Otherwise the signal sent to adversaries is one of vulnerability.

Beyond Kosovo, Western institutions have also responded cautiously.

NATO’s KFOR peacekeeping mission emphasised its commitment to maintaining security but declined to address the specific remarks made by Vulin.

“KFOR has a robust, visible and flexible posture across Kosovo,” its press office said, adding that the mission continues to implement its United Nations mandate to ensure a safe and secure environment.

For further comment on the political statements themselves, the mission referred questions back to Kosovo’s institutions.

The European Union’s external affairs service offered an even shorter response.

“We do not comment on comments,” an EU spokesperson told this week.

That diplomatic restraint reflects a long-standing Western strategy toward Serbia8.

European officials argue that continued engagement is necessary to keep Belgrade anchored within the European political orbit and to limit Moscow’s influence in the Balkans.

Critics counter that the approach has allowed nationalist rhetoric to flourish without consequence.

Noel Hadjimichael, a defence and security analyst associated with the British Defence and Security Circle in London, frames the issue in broader strategic terms.

“Serbia has the opportunity to disclaim provocative narrative aimed at destabilising its neighbours,” he said.

“Such action by leading political voices only lessen Serbia’s standing.”

From the perspective of Western security policy, he argues, the stability of Kosovo’s democratic institutions carries wider geopolitical significance.

“Western partners across Europe value a stable, responsible and responsive Kosovo,” Noel said.

“A Kosovo that denies Russia’s toxic and harmful influence across the West Balkans region is a victory for liberal values.”

Small democracies on Europe’s geopolitical frontier, he added, deserve active support from the international community.

That support has historically been central to Kosovo’s survival.

Nearly six hundred American troops remain deployed within the NATO-led KFOR mission that continues to guarantee security across the territory.

Recent reports suggesting that Washington might reduce its military presence triggered alarm among members of the U.S. Congress9.

In a letter to Secretary of State Marco Rubio, both Republican and Democratic lawmakers warned that any reduction of American forces could destabilise not only Kosovo but the wider Western Balkans at a moment when Russian influence remains active in the region.

“Reducing the U.S. presence risks destabilising not only Kosovo but the wider region,” the lawmakers wrote.

Their warning highlights the strategic reality underpinning the current crisis.

Kosovo sits at the intersection of competing geopolitical projects.

One vision sees the Western Balkans fully integrated into the democratic and security architecture of Europe and NATO.

The other seeks to preserve zones of influence in which authoritarian actors maintain leverage through political fragmentation and unresolved territorial disputes.

In that contest, the stability of Kosovo’s democratic government carries significance far beyond its borders.

The republic’s current leadership has defined itself explicitly as pro-Western.

Its electoral mandate is rooted in the promise of institutional reform, transparency and alignment with Euro-Atlantic political norms.

That trajectory places it in direct conflict with the networks of influence that have historically shaped the region.

For Moscow, the Western Balkans represent one of the few remaining arenas in Europe where geopolitical friction can still be generated at relatively low cost.

For Belgrade, Kosovo remains both a national myth and a strategic bargaining chip.

For the West, Kosovo is a test of whether the political architecture built after the wars of the 1990s can withstand the pressures of a new geopolitical era.

The remarks delivered by Aleksandar Vulin therefore resonate far beyond a single televised discussion.

They expose the fragile line separating rhetoric from strategy in a region where history has repeatedly demonstrated how quickly one can become the other.

They also reveal the uncomfortable reality that the defence of democratic institutions often depends not only on military guarantees but on political clarity.

When threats are spoken openly and institutions respond with silence, the balance of power begins to shift.

Kosovo’s history offers a warning about what can follow when that balance collapses.

Whether the region has learned enough from that past remains an open question.

Aleksandar Vulin, Serbia’s former director of the Security Intelligence Agency BIA and a longtime political ally of President Aleksandar Vucic, sparked the latest controversy during a televised discussion in Serbia in which he invoked the operational methods of Israel’s intelligence service Mossad when speaking about individuals he described as promoters of “anti-Serbian policy”.

“...the Serbian state must act. After this I would ask our service to make a clear plan about how we will d…

Read more

The court’s interim ruling1 freezes the implementation of President Vjosa Osmani’s March 6 decree2 that sought to dissolve the 120 seat Assembly of Kosovo and send the country toward early parliamentary elections. Until the court reaches a final decision on the constitutionality of that move, neither the presidency nor the parliament may take further action connected to the decree.

The judges said the temporary measure was necessary to prevent what they described as “irreparable damage” to the constitutional order and to the functioning of key democratic institutions. The suspension will remain in force until at least March 31 while the court reviews the case in detail.

For three weeks, Kosovo no…

Read more

For an outside reader, the scene can look like a paradox, a cou…

Read more

The apparent political sidelining1 of Richard Grenell marks more than the decline of a single political operator. For the Western Balkans, it signals the possible end of a troubling era in which informal access, personal branding, and narrative pressure routinely substituted for accountable diplomacy.

For years, Grenell functioned less as a traditional envoy than as a power broker whose authority flowed from proximity to Donald Trump, not from durable institutional mandate2. That access allowed him to project influence deep into fragile political systems - most notably in Kosovo3 and Serbia4 - often with destabilising consequences.

The recent portrait published by the Daily Mail5, depicting Grenell as increasingly isolated in Wash…

Read more

I landed in Prishtina last December through fog so thick it felt intentional. The plane hit the runway hard, tyres skidding for a fraction longer than felt comfortable. Through the window, lights bled into the grey rather than cutting through it. The airport appeared late, as if someone had forgotten to switch it on.

When the doors opened, the cold arrived first. Not a dramatic cold, an administrative cold. The kind that seeps through coats while you wait. Inside, the air smelled faintly of disinfectant and fresh coffee. Border control was efficient, unsmiling, untheatrical. Passports stamped. No fuss. No slogans.

From the air, Kosovo announces itself with gravitas, a dramatic frontier rather than a forgotten corner. Mountains surge up through cloud, their scale denyi…

Read more

Read more

With ballots counted late into the night, Lëvizja Vetëvendosje secured more than half of the national vote, a threshold that would allow it to govern without relying on reluctant coalition partners. The outcome marked a sharp reversal from elections held in February, when the party emerged first but fell short of a majority, triggering a prolonged institutional paralysis.

The vote followed the dissolution of parliament by President Vjosa Osmani after nearly a year of failed coalition talks that froze legislative work, delayed international financing and raised concerns among Western partners about political stability in Pristina. Sunday’s election was the second parli…

Read more

In the Balkans, absence is never neutral. It is a language. And this silence spoke fluently in the dialect of Belgrade’s long project to hollow out Kosovo from within.

Serbian List is not an ordinary minority party. It is an extension cord plugged directly into Belgrade’s power socket. Its leadership has never accepted Kosovo’s independence, never concealed its loyalty to Aleks…

Read more

The first official lines were cautious, and the phrasing mattered. Kosovo police said it was suspected the incident occurred on the Kosovo side of the line, inside an area known as zero point near Leposavic. They added that witnesses reported several masked person…

Read more

The pattern is consistent. Belgrade negotiates, but never recognises. It signs, but does not implement. It fuels Serb boycotts in the north, then uses those boycotts to argue that Prishtina has “no legitimacy” there. It keeps parallel security, judicial, education and energy structures alive across the Ibër River so that no Kosovo government can exercise full sovereignty without being accused of “provocation”. It tolerates, arms or at least winks at militarised groups who can, as in Banjska on 24 September 2023, cross over, kill a Kosovo police officer and try to seize territory under the cover of “protecting local Serbs”. That operation, in scale and method, was too disciplined, too resourced and too politically timed to be explained away as a rogue criminal unit. It was a textbook Kremlin method, create confusion, wrap it in an ethnic-justice story, test how far NATO and the EU will go, and watch which Western capital rushes to tell Prishtina to calm down rather than to tell Belgrade to stop.

Because Serbia could not gain what it wanted through force after 1999, it built influence networks inside Kosovo’s own Albanian political scene. Our reporting on the Krasniqi family sits right in the middle of that vulnerability. When Milazim Krasniqi, with his CV1, history and access, goes to Mitrovica and tells citizens2 to “stay away” from the prime minister Kurti and the agriculture minister Peci because their presence “creates problems”, he is not offering civic advice, he is reproducing, in Albanian, the very line Belgrade and its instrument Serbian List Party push every week, ‘Prishtina is the problem,’ order comes from elsewhere. When his son, Memli Krasniqi, whose rise inside PDK was backed by the generation that made serial compromises with Serbian parallel structures, steps forward in June 2023 to echo the irritation of Gabriel Escobar and Miroslav Lajčák against the Kosovo government, he is not defending Kosovo’s Western path, he is leveraging Western pressure to weaken the only authority that has actually imposed Kosovo’s sovereignty in the north. The timing matters, he did it months before Serbian paramilitaries tried to carve out a pocket in Banjska. That is what hybrid warfare looks like in a small country, local faces carrying an external script3.

The money trail makes it even uglier. Kallxo.com reported4 that Memli Krasniqi

Read more

Saudi Arabia’s foreign ministry stated it “welcomes the announcement by the Government of the Syrian Arab Republic of recognising the Republic of Kosovo… made during the trilateral meeting held between … His Royal Highness Prince Mohammed­ bin Salman … His Excellency Ahmed Al-Sharaa … and Her Excellency Vjosa Osmani Sadriu.”

The statement added that the Kingdom “looks forward to this recognition contributing to strengthen bilateral cooperation between the two countries … and their peoples.”

At the same time, the Kosovan presidency said it considered the recognition “a decision of h…

Read more

Two and a half years on, that episode looks less like an outlier than an overture. This autumn, an investigation by the Balkan Investigative Reporting Network described how sanctioned, low-grade fuel from Russia and Libya has been funneled into Europe through Albanian ports, disguised as “cement” or hidden in refitted hulls, with forged declarations and lax checks doing the rest. Within days, Ukrainian outlets amplified the findings, naming Porto Romano and detailing voyages by the Besart and the Aya Zanoubya that, on paper, carried building materials but in fact held hundreds of thousands of litres…

Read more

Start with the record, not the rhetoric. Two years after the Banjska attack, when a well-armed Serb paramilitary unit killed Kosovo Police Sergeant Afrim Bunjaku and fought an all-day battle around a monastery, accountability remains lopsided. Kosovo’s Special Prosecutor has …

Read more

Two days later, the story burst into the open with a jolt. Kosovo’s acting interior minister, Xhelal Sveçla, announced that police2, working closely with the AKI and prosecutors, had arrested the public commentator Fatmir Sheholli on suspicion of espionage. The minister’s language was stark, almost prosecutorial, promising an “uncompromising” pursuit of anyone working “for Serbia and against Kosovo.” The Special Prosecution followed with a formal note3: after months of inquiry, investigators had moved, seizing materials in a several-hour search of Sheholli’s flat and ordering his detention for 48 hours.

By 10 October, prosecutors had asked a judge to impose pre-trial custody. That evening the Basic Court of Pristina agreed4, ordering one month’s detention and endorsing the Special Prosecution’s account that the suspected offence fell under Article 124 (“Espionage”) of Kosovo’s Criminal Code, a provision that covers, among other acts, entering the service of a foreign intelligence organisation or collecting and transmitting sensitive information to it.

Read more

The breakthrough came a day after the arrest in Pristina of Fatmir Sheholli on suspicion of espionage, an operation the Interior Minister described2 as among the most serious for Kosovo’s security and constitutional order. The Special Prosecution said the raid followed months of investigation, was carried out with the Organized Crime Directorate and with assistance from the Kosovo Intelligence Agency3, and th…

Read more