Balkan states are once again dramatizing their regional political landscape, revealing an overreliance on scandalous and alarming narratives to attract the attention of major powers. After all, more attention means more leverage for lobbying and exerting pressure.
Serbia and its public are particularly adept at fueling both domestic and international concern, largely thanks to the propagandistic flair of its autocratic president. He has a clear motive: any potential flare-up in the region diverts attention from the mass protest movements currently threatening his hold on power.
President Vučić has built his foreign policy around hedging, a strategy in international relations by which states navigate uncertainty and minimize risks when engaging with great powers. Rather than fully balancing against one power or bandwagoning with another, a “hedging” state retains sufficient flexibility to avoid excessive reliance on—or direct antagonism toward—any single major player. Vučić has proven quite adept at this approach.
However, that strategy has become more complex given the prospect of peace in Ukraine and a potential thaw in relations between Russia and the United States—two developments that weaken Vučić’s ability to balance multiple sides.
The most recent example of Serbia’s tendency toward “casual alarmism” is the heavily publicized announcement of a “military alliance” with Hungary. In reality, this is simply the renewal of a strategic defense cooperation agreement in place since 2023, which is extended annually. Serbia’s move seems largely a reaction to reports of enhanced defense cooperation among Croatia, Albania, and Kosovo—a newly announced declaration that also invites Bulgaria once it achieves “political consolidation,” according to Croatian media.
This episode brings us back to the notion of an artificial arms race in the region—an idea with no real foundation. Serbia and Croatia, as well as Serbia and Albania, have no pressing bilateral disputes. Meanwhile, the risk of armed conflict in Kosovo has sharply declined since the Kosovar Prime Minister consolidated control over the Serb-majority north and expelled the usual troublemakers—organized criminal groups with strong ties to Serbia’s political elite. Consequently, the broader purpose of these “alliances” remains unclear. Neither Serbia, Croatia, nor Albania faces high-salience disputes at the moment, nor does Serbia have the capacity to mount a military response regarding Kosovo.
Croatia’s collaboration with Albania stems from traditionally strong ties and the fact that numerous ethnic Albanians fought in Croatia’s 1990s war of independence—some attaining high positions in the Croatian army. Meanwhile, Croatia is aiming to bolster its defense industry to compete with Serbia’s, which it inherited from the former Yugoslavia and has since modernized. Serbia’s defense sector has notably thrived in recent years by selling to conflict zones such as Ukraine and the Middle East, where its artillery munitions have been in high demand.
Despite the hype in Serbia’s pro-government media surrounding a “military alliance” with Hungary—intended to enhance Vučić’s image both domestically and internationally—Hungarian outlets have not treated the development as particularly significant. Upgrading the agreement from a lower administrative level to a ministerial-level document is mostly symbolic, a gesture from Prime Minister Orbán to Vučić driven by their shared political and, reportedly, corrupt personal interests.
Beyond this, Hungary did symbolically back Serbia by sending special police units during a crisis involving Milorad Dodik. In addition to overlapping interests—some of them corrupt—Serbia and Hungary share certain ideological stances: both regimes are right-wing conservative, anti-immigration, and, by some accounts, Islamophobic, which is potentially relevant in the case of Bosnia.
Russian propaganda seizes on these dynamics to claim the emergence of a “Russian front” in Europe, portraying it as evidence of NATO’s weakness—particularly should nations like Slovakia or North Macedonia join this so-called “moralistic Balkan–Central European transversal.”
Yet these “micro-Ententes” evoke interwar-era initiatives that ultimately failed the test of time. Their fundamental shortcoming is the lack of genuine commitment. For a NATO member such as Hungary, forging an alliance with non-member Serbia presents significant reputational risks and high audience costs at home. As with many previous “alliances” and “eternal friendships,” this agreement may amount to nothing more than ink on paper—a propaganda tool for domestic and regional political ends.
Looking ahead, another armed conflict in the Balkans remains unlikely. Serbia’s deterrent posture in Kosovo was unsuccessful, and a similar approach is unlikely to succeed with Dodik, who continues to test NATO’s patience as the guarantor of peace in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Despite wider global tensions, the United States and the European Union are generally in sync regarding Bosnia and Herzegovina. Dodik’s inclination to provoke crises for his own survival will likely diminish over time, just as will alarmist talk of alliances and unrest.
Still, these developments are not without significance, as they point to eroding trust in global alliances. Friction within NATO is resonating in the Balkans, and this is one of its consequences. While Russia may exploit the perception of instability, direct intervention remains unlikely. The chief concern is the persistent propaganda that paints the region as volatile, reinforcing authoritarian tendencies and democratic backsliding in the Balkans over the long term.
The articles published in the “Opinions” column reflect the personal opinion of the author and may not coincide with the position of the Center
Ljubomir Filipović. Montenegrin political scientist
