Friday, June 27, 2025

Bridges and borders as sites of resistance: The case of Mitrovica

By Neve Clements

In 

In Mitrovica, Kosovo, the Ibar River bridge does not merely connect the north and south, it embodies the weight of history, tension and unhealed wounds. Guarded and watched, it is seen less as a passage and more as a boundary. When we spoke with Community Building Mitrovica, the spokesperson Milica stated, “The bridge is seen as a place of division rather than connection… Everything depends on the space on the bridge where they stand.” These words expose how even within a shared structure, people remain locked in an either/or ideology: always standing on one side or the other.

While listening to Milica, I was struck by how a single structure could hold so much pain and political weight. I felt a kind of heaviness just imagining the bridge, a place where movement is watched, where crossing is a declaration. It made me reflect on how borders like this one don’t just divide land, they shape identity, language and belonging. I kept thinking about a book I recently read by Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands/La Frontera. Anzaldúa reminds us that such borders are not only geopolitical but psychic and linguistic. “A border is a dividing line,” she writes, “a narrow strip along a steep edge. A borderland is a vague and undetermined place created by the emotional residue of an unnatural boundary.” (Anzaldúa, 1987). The Mitrovica bridge, in its silence and tension, becomes this undetermined place. A space of fear, but also of radical potential. 

Anzaldúa speaks of borderlands as spaces where resistance is born through hybridity, ambiguity and identity. She writes, “I am my language… Until I can take pride in my language, I cannot take pride in myself” (Anzaldúa, 1987). She gestures toward the everyday resistances that take place in Mitrovica: speaking one’s native tongue across the divide, reclaiming space through art, storytelling and simply remaining. While resistance is not always loud, it can be the quiet insistence on presence in a place designed to separate. 

The bridge, then, is more than infrastructure, it is a metaphorical site of struggle, possibility, and reimagination. As Anzaldúa says, “it is in the margins that I grow strong.” (Anzaldúa, 1987). In standing on the bridge, anywhere on it, there is the potential to challenge the narrative of division. By refusing to be confined to one side, communities in Mitrovica embody the borderland consciousness: resisting not by retreating from difference, but by learning to live within it.






Thursday, June 26, 2025

A piece of land, a world of possibilities

 By Elena Landwehr

In Peace Lab Kosovo, we focus on Kosovo, as the name suggests. But we are also interested in peacebuilding more broadly. I believe that is important because just as conflicts spill over borders, so should peace. That is why I was really looking forward to meeting Dieudonné Gakire from Rwanda, an AUC alumnus. During a Peace by Peace workshop on 11 June, we had the chance to speak with him, and we were grateful that he took even more time to talk to our class on Tuesday (17 June).


Dieudonné Gakire, founder of the Empowerment Hub Dusego

Dieudonné is the founder of the Dusego Empowerment Hub in Rwanda, which has been active since 2023. It is in his home village, Dusego, about 50  kilometres southeast of Rwanda’s capital, Kigali. The Hub gives children the opportunity to follow their dreams through education and skills training, alongside a strong commitment to community building and development. The focus is on personal growth, literacy and sustainability of the initiative. They offer workshops, run their own library, teach computer skills, and will soon operate a guesthouse to host volunteers. All of this is possible thanks to Dieudonné’s drive and dedication.

The initiative’s library – Dusego Empowerment Hub

Dieudonné was only two years old when the genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda took place in 1994. Even though he does not recall memories from that time, the shock stayed, shaping him and generations to come. Rwanda has spent years dealing with the aftermath and continues to do so. One of the lasting effects of this tragedy was the disruption of social structures, like access to education. Dieudonné saw firsthand how many children in his home village were left without real opportunities to learn and grow, which made it his dream to create a space where young people could flourish. So, after studying at Amsterdam University College, he took matters into his own hands and was able to buy a piece of land in Dusego. Our Peace Lab lecturer, Anne de Graaf, remembers how, over the three years of Peace Lab Rwanda visits, they saw the whole process unfold. It started with  “Look, this is the land I bought,” then turned into a construction site, and finally became a lively centre of community education and connection, full of energy and motivation.

While Dieudonné was sharing his story, I could tell that everyone in the room was following every word he said. We were all captivated by his courage and determination. Not only did he build a place where young and old come together to learn and grow, but he also continues to build peace. Especially in societies with complicated pasts, education is a crucial foundation for lasting peace. He likes to call the Dusego Empowerment Hub an initiative because it is grassroots, community-driven and flexible. It thrives thanks to the people at its core: locals, volunteers and children who help shape what it is becoming.

After our meeting, we sat together and continued to chat, because there were so many topics to discuss and stories to tell. That is when I realised how peacebuilding does not just happen through projects or official programmes. It starts here, with us. With a shared experience. With a small idea. With a short conversation. The talk with Dieudonné was a reminder that peace is built step by step. Thank you, Dieudonné, for sharing your story with us!

Wednesday, June 25, 2025

Handling prejudice with grace

By Thomas Jurgens

Last Tuesday, on June 17th, our class had the privilege of conversing with the founder and a project manager at the Center for Social Group Development (CGSD) – Arbër Nuhiu and Rajmonda Sylbije. The responsibility of preparing the interview fell to Ema and myself. Since Ema’s blogpost already did an apt job at summarising the main goals of the organisation and the main through lines of the interview itself, I shall focus more on the side of Queer rights within Kosovo, in connection with the thing that touched me the most: the continued underestimation of the importance of Queerness in contemporary society.

 
            CGSD, in short, is a non-profit organisation working in Kosovo to provide Queer people with free health and psychological support, alongside advocacy for legislative reforms to further the rights of Queer individuals under Kosovo law. It is one of two, historically three, Queer rights organisations in Kosovo. In our presentation, Ema and I presented them as a kind of trifecta: CGSD, Qesh, and CEL. The thing that really sets CGSD apart is its focus on free sexual healthcare, psychological aid and legal consultation, which I highly respect as an endeavour. Although Qesh no longer seems to be active, the three organisations have managed to carve out a place for themselves within Kosovo’s legal practices and culture, through a variety of Pride parades and formal routes of consultation with government institutions. At one point in the interview, Rajmonda even mentioned a recent project to set up an organisation comprised entirely of Queer women, which especially inspired me. Oftentimes, even the best morals fall under the weight of profit, and yet these people were helping an entirely separate organisation find their footing – with no egotistical motivation to speak of – simply to create a place of communion. Besides the economic aspect, we also spoke in class about the functional difficulties of having multiple organisations with a similar mandate. Based on examples of UNMIK and EULEX, these difficulties were exemplified by confusion surrounding their communications and specific purviews. It seems that when organisations are based on a want for community, these struggles take a back seat, and the common objective crystallises into a shared vision of the future.

The LGBT Advisory & Coordination Group, of which CSGD is an integral member, advising the government on policy changes in 2012 – an example of their status gained through relentless advocacy.

We discussed multiple versions of Kosovo and its history, one of them being Kosovo as a new and young state, full of optimism. It is idealistic, it strives for the future, it is exemplary in its progressive legislature as a foundation of its revolutionary declaration of independence, etc. One more quote that struck me came from Arbër, the founder of CSGD all the way back in 2003; ‘The Kosovo parliament voting against the legalisation of gay marriage was the first time the government voted against Human Rights.’ The conversation had been warmly positive up to this point, discussing CSGD’s many successes and its motivation for the future. This note struck me deeper than I would have imagined, although I suppose that attests to my own lack of relational imagination – Kosovo never felt quite as real as when it related to my own identity as a Queer man. Arbër continued by touching on the internationally worsening situation for Queer individuals and reflecting on this section of the interview, the people around me, the classroom where this interview took place, and even myself – I started to wonder why. Is it possible that in my own work as a peacebuilder, I should detach from my personal struggles and fully entrench myself in any given situation? Is peacebuilding like anthropological fieldwork in a sense? Or is peacebuilding stronger when it’s motivated by a wish to build peace within yourself?

Overall, the interview with CSGD was incredibly moving. This organisation has more than two decades of selfless peacebuilding history and regardless of international prejudice and the silence in our classroom, they keep going. Immediately after, I looked around the classroom with a renewed awareness of homophobic sentiment running like an undercurrent through the room, my education founded in a society yet to develop the language to handle this prejudice with grace, tact, and impact. It is people like Rajmonda and Arbër who are developing this language by stimulating societal conversation around Queer rights with all the Queer grace and tact necessary to make an impact. They make me believe society may one day come around to accept Queerness in all its unique pleasure. They make me believe that I could be part of this change.

Tuesday, June 24, 2025

The most radical thing

By Ema Torcato

Today (Tuesday 17 June) we had the chance to talk with Arber Nuhiu and Rajmonda Sylbije from the Center for Social Group Development (CSGD) in Kosovo. In the days prior to the Zoom meeting, I had read a lot about the organisation and what it stood for. I learned that it was the first LGBTI NGO in Kosovo, established in 2003 by Arber Nuhiu. I was expecting to hear about their activism, the usual kinds of community programs, and maybe some of the legal work they do. But I didn’t expect to be so personally impacted by the conversation.

CSGD focuses on four main areas: empowerment, awareness, advocacy, and HIV prevention services for LGBTI individuals in Kosovo. Their work covers legal aid, psychological support, public awareness campaigns and fighting for policy changes, especially around legal gender recognition, marriage equality and access to justice.



But more than a list of activities, what came through in the conversation was the weight of time. We got to truly see just how long and slow advocacy work really is, and how much effort it takes to move things along. Arber walked us through the years they’ve spent pushing for change, and how frustrating it can be when progress is met with resistance. Arber talked to us about the different moments over the past two decades, when they’ve tried to push for policy reform or greater protections for the community, and how often those efforts have been met with silence, delays, or flat-out rejection. He mentioned the lack of political will from those in power. Not just indifference, but at times outright hostility, with public figures openly engaging in hate speech, using their platforms to spread harmful narratives about queer people. Hearing that was honestly a gut-punch. It’s one thing to know that change is slow; it’s another thing to see how deeply people can resist it. And yet, CSGD is still showing up. 


The part of the conversation that has stuck with me more than anything else was when Rajmonda mentioned the lack of queer women taking the lead in activism in Kosovo today. At AUC I’ve always learned that intersectionality is a key part of meaningful social justice work, acting as a lens through which we understand how different forms of oppression are compounded. As a queer woman myself, I felt it was quite important for intersectionality to be used in these contexts, especially at a time when there’s a clear lack of political will to make concrete changes toward a more inclusive environment and stronger rule of law. What Rajmonda said really made me think about how often queer women are side-lined, even within LGBTQ+ spaces. When their voices and experiences aren’t centred, it becomes easy for their specific challenges to be overlooked. That conversation made me reflect on my own role in activism, too. Hearing about these struggles first-hand reminded me that I want to use my own identity more intentionally to speak up and support others as well.

The conversation left me thinking about how we measure success in movements like this. CSGD has done so much. It has opened a drop-in centre visited by thousands, held trainings, joined international events, provided medical and psychological care, and built bridges among queer people across ethnic divides. And yet, Arber still described the community as not fully developed. That was hard to hear. I think it made me realise nothing is ever truly accomplished and the work is never “done” when the structures we’re up against are deep and ongoing. 

But, surprisingly, this didn’t make me feel hopeless. By the end of the call, I felt mostly inspired. Not by some abstract idea of activism, but by the real work CSGD does, and particularly their persistence. By the fact they haven’t given up, even when the odds are stacked against them. I left the meeting thinking about how I can use my own voice, my identity and my privilege more intentionally. They reminded me that change isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s quiet, exhausting, slow, but still necessary.

And sometimes, just being there, still doing the work, is the most radical thing you can do.


Monday, June 23, 2025

Elisabeth Gowing - The Politics of peacebuilding :Stories that shape a nation

 

Photo credit: Jonada Jashari - https://www.elizabethgowing.com/
By Yona Cohen-Solal

A day before our meeting with Elisabeth Gowing, while preparing for the pre-meeting briefing, I was not quite sure what to expect. By Friday afternoon (13 June), however, that uncertainty had turned into genuine curiosity. Reading about her achievements, especially her NGO work and her strong involvement in Kosovo despite her British background, made me excited to learn more. I assumed the session would focus primarily on her nonprofit initiatives, but I was surprised to find that she placed greater emphasis on her role as an advisor on community affairs in the Kosovar government.

Elisabeth Gowing’s path brings together education, activism, and storytelling in a way that felt especially relevant to Peace Lab Kosovo. She began her career as a primary-school teacher before moving into education policy in the UK, and in 2006, she relocated to Kosovo. Since then, she has been deeply involved in public life, not only through writing and media but also through civil society and government work. Her books, translations, and podcast reflect her commitment to sharing stories, while her founding of an NGO, work with other organisations, and training efforts show how she connects narrative with action. Her role as an advisor on community affairs within the Kosovar government adds another dimension to her engagement.
 
The meeting followed the usual structure, starting with a self-introduction, and continuing with the Q&As. She put a lot of emphasis on her current job, because she explained that she had to be less involved in her activist work in order to keep her integrity in her advisory role. She highlighted some significant projects that she was working on, such as verifying diplomas from (mainly Serbian) institutions that are not officially recognised by Kosovo. Nevertheless, I noticed that she walked around the word “recognition”, and accentuated the word “verify’ instead, which confirms how powerful language can be. She also discussed the importance of storytelling in peacebuilding because of its crucial shaping of narratives. While she acknowledged that it could be used negatively to frame a narrative, she insisted that it was also essential in empowering agents of social change by incentivising them to tell their stories and inspire others. This argument struck me, because I always used to associate storytelling with the manipulated framing of narratives, but this challenged the idea that storytelling should inherently be opposed to trust. 
 
Furthermore, when Elisabeth Gowing told us about how she founded the Ideas Partnership NGO, I was really touched. She explained how she was walking in the Ashkali neighbourhood when a woman asked her for help with her injured son. After going to the doctor together, she came back regularly to provide her with the medicine her son needed. While doing so, she started to know her daughter as well, who could not go to school because she missed the first few years, and was not able to catch up. She then decided to offer her help to teach her, and the girl asked whether her friends could join as well. Once organized, she started teaching a class of 23 children, and other volunteers started to join, making the NGO emerge. 
 
Nevertheless, while her British background allows her to have a perspective which is less entrenched in the deeply rooted ethnic divisions, we were still able to notice some tensions. For instance, she is fighting for the marginalised communities, which include the Serbs, and she mentioned having meetings (herself, or the PM) with Serbian social actors or NGOs, although these are usually kept secret for their safety. 
 
In conclusion, this guest lecture was really interesting in opening up my perspectives. Learning about her experience in the Kosovar government, as well as her media and civil society work reshaped my outlooks on Kosovo and peacebuilding. In particular, her insights from the government and her NGO made me gain nuance in the roles of the actors and their dynamics within Kosovo. Regarding peacebuilding, her idea of storytelling shifted my opinions on the concept and the implications of its usage. 

Friday, June 20, 2025

Unlearning

 

By Johanna Kallmeyer


On Tuesday, we were looking forward to a 2.5-hour workshop from the Nuance Project, an initiative led by three students from Leiden University, focused on teaching and applying transformative dialogue skills to heated topics. Having Afghan, Palestinian, and Jewish backgrounds, they were moved by the raging discussions on university chat groups following October 7th. The polarisation of the topic in their circles inspired them to learn about transformative dialogue and create safe spaces for students to have productive conversations on these topics that divide their communities. Recent trends in media, of short form, digestible and supposedly “objective” content that is supposed to appeal to as many people as possible, keep people surrounded by filter bubbles and create black and white narratives that cause a decline of empathy towards each other. The effects are seen in political divides all around the world, making morals seem definitive, and people seem disconnected. The Nuance project aims to tackle these divides in our student community in the Netherlands, but unfortunately, they could not make it to the meeting to teach us their methods. 

However, we met with another initiative that tackles polarisation and the failure of general media sources. Kosovo 2.0 is an inspiring online magazine that publishes long articles and feature formats, as well as submission-based posts on its website. We met with one of the co-founders, Besa Luci. She told us about how she felt there was something lacking in how journalism in general, but especially in the region, had become less and less about actually taking time to focus on people’s stories and listening to others with empathy. At Kosovo 2.0, they aim to address topics that are not widely discussed due to taboos or polarised narratives. 

She mentioned one thing that stuck with me when she explained the importance of journalism as storytelling, and not “objective” reporting. Because journalism and storytelling are about more than just learning and being educated, they are actually also about unlearning. Unlearning the hateful narratives we have all heard and grown up with about certain groups of people. Unlearning the ways we interact with one another through hate and othering. Storytelling helps us imagine ways in which the world can be different and helps us formalise our role in changing it. It helps us connect and meet each other with empathy and understanding. This certainly applies to the incredible work that Kosovo 2.0 is doing with their online magazine, I think that is something we all need to remember. 

A page from their amazing website https://kosovotwopointzero.com/en/


Thursday, June 19, 2025

The Power of Storytelling

By Veronica Hibbert 

Today, we spoke with Besa Luci from Kosovo 2.0. Over the past few days, I have been researching the independent media platform in preparation for our meeting. I was excited to finally be able to ask our questions and hear directly from someone involved in shaping its vision. So far, we’ve met with a wide range of people, The New Social Initiative, Kosovo Women’s Network and Elizabeth Gowing, and each has offered us a very different lens through which to understand Kosovo’s social and political dynamics. I was especially looking forward to this session because it gave us the chance to engage with a completely different kind of organisation; a media outlet that prioritises depth, critical reflection and the power of storytelling. 

 

Something that stayed with me from our meeting with Besa Luci was the idea of slow journalism. Before this, I hadn’t really thought about how much the speed of today’s media affects the quality of the stories we consume. We’re constantly flooded with updates, headlines, and opinions. There’s always pressure to be the first, to keep scrolling, and to react instantly. When Besa talked about Kosovo 2.0’s approach, it felt like a breath of fresh air. They focus on telling stories that are carefully researched and thoughtfully written, stories that take time, dig deeper, and ask why something matters, not just what happened.

 

This deeply resonated with me and made me reflect on the kind of media I want to engage with. It made me realise how often I skim through articles or scroll past posts without fully understanding the context. I’m accustomed to consuming information quickly, so I frequently forget how powerful it can be to slow down and truly listen. I found it inspiring that Kosovo 2.0 doesn’t just report on events; they create spaces for voices and perspectives that might otherwise go unheard. 

 

Hearing Besa speak about their work reminded me that good journalism is not just about speed. This meeting left a strong impression on me, and I feel lucky that we had the opportunity to speak with someone who is challenging the way media works and demonstrating the power of storytelling. 


Image from Kosovo 2.0

https://kosovotwopointzero.com/en/ending-the-silence-cycle/ 


Wednesday, June 18, 2025

Optimism in the face of increasing global polarisation

By Isaac Otter

After the second and final cancelation of EULEX my blog post requires a different focus. Something that has really struck me is the optimism of the people we have talked to in Kosovo. The current international political tides have been making me feel more and more alienated and disillusioned with global politics, especially regarding the increasing polarisation and extremity of political narratives on all sides. This shift, in combination with the trend of decreasing international aid and increase in national military spending, put me into a very pessimistic headspace when coming into Peace Lab. This feeling was reaffirmed to some extent with the first meeting of the course with New Social Initiative (NSI), after they gave us a genuine and emotional narrative which positioned Kosovo as a “pre-conflict” state. At this point I was feeling like my notions of global politics were materialised in Kosovo – a troubling and unsettling feeling which stuck with me. 

However, over the following four days, and with meetings with various NGOs and individuals who are peacebuilders in Kosovo, my feelings started to shift. The first moment in this shift of perception was the meeting with Elizabeth Gowing. With her extremely impressive portfolio of work in Kosovo institutions, it was her story of how she began a preparatory education school for minority children that really impacted me. It painted a picture of unwavering and dedicated aid on a local scale, with no expectation of payment or personal gain. 

This optimistic outlook was added to by today’s meeting with Besa Luci, a co-founder of Kosovo 2.0. Her dedication and passion for journalism, specifically slow journalism, was powerful - and a perspective which I felt like I really needed to hear in a time of fast media. 
In conclusion, these meetings have reflected to me my own dismissive and pessimistic perspective, as the people in Kosovo we spoke to – who are actively fighting the injustices that had fuelled my outlook – gave me a much more positive outlook. This aligns with what Besa said about the importance of “unlearning” – something I will try and take into my day-to-day life. 

This is a screenshot of Kosovo 2.0’s website which shows their commitment to and production of slow journalism.


Tuesday, June 17, 2025

Women and peacebuilding

By Maria van Wijnen

Last Friday (13 June) we met with a representative from the Kosovo Women’s Network (KWN), a leading organisation dedicated to promoting gender equality and advancing women’s rights across Kosovo. An important part of KWN’s work involves collaboration across ethnic lines. By working closely with civil society organisations representing different backgrounds, KWN helps address common issues that affect women regardless of ethnicity, such as gender-based violence, economic inequality, and access to healthcare and education. This was particularly interesting because, as we have learned, there are high ethnic tensions in Kosovo from both sides. Thus, the way that the KWN has been able to create a sense of solidarity among all women is very inspiring and I believe, sets a strong example of how to bridge communities through shared challenges.

Kosovo Women’s Network Logo

KWN explained how one of the major challenges facing women is domestic violence which had increased after the war as a result of the violence. I found it interesting how Adeline spoke about this, as she explained that many men struggled after the war because of the violence they had witnessed or experienced. She was careful to not frame this as an excuse for this behaviour, saying “everyone experienced violence.” I found this quite important because while PTSD or other trauma-related mental health challenges are important to explaining this violence, they do not justify it. Adeline went on to explain how after the war, the government did not realise or understand that there was a need for women's shelters, so women started just taking each other in and forming unofficial shelters. This is one example of really powerful solidarity among women.

 

Another challenge facing women is the high rate of unemployment. While we had discussed this in class as it is an issue facing the entire country, I had not thought about how this might disproportionately affect women. Moreover, unemployment exacerbates economic dependency, making it harder for domestic abuse victims to escape dangerous situations. The KWN has advocated for laws and policies that provide greater protection for survivors and works closely with shelters and service providers to ensure that survivors have access to essential services, including safe housing, psychological support, legal aid and health care. The organisation also monitors how these services are funded and delivered, pushing for sustained government funding so that women are not left vulnerable due to budget cuts or political shifts. Through public campaigns, KWN raises awareness about domestic violence, challenges harmful gender norms, and encourages both survivors and bystanders to speak out and seek help. KWN also partners with other organisations to provide training, capacity-building, and mentorship opportunities to improve women’s skills and employability.

 

Overall, the KWN has gained great legitimacy in Kosovo’s government; however, there are still challenges in achieving true gender equality, including gender quotas. While quotas are important to changing norms and proving that women are capable in governmental roles, they are still controversial. As Adeline discussed, many politicians will only back female politicians who they know will not challenge institutions or speak out against injustices. She said that sometimes, politicians will just back the first female politician on an alphabetical list. This means that while statistically, women’s representation in government might have increased significantly, there is still a lack of true representation. I am not sure how this can be fixed but I do think that KWN’s work in advocacy and changing norms surrounding feminism and women’s rights will help form societal norms that will allow for full representation and inclusion of women in Kosovo’s society. Overall, speaking to Adeline about the KWN was truly inspiring and, in my eyes, a testament to how important women are to the peacebuilding process.



President Jahjaga’s speech at the Annual Convention of the Kosovo Women’s Network 


Monday, June 16, 2025

Even one new friendship

By Anna Sushko

Before the meeting, I had been so excited. For the last few days, I had been researching the New Social Initiative (NSI) for hours, reading about their projects, their opinion pieces and publications. I was impressed and deeply moved. Here was a civil society organisation that seemed not only to succeed in increasing civil participation in the local democratic processes of citizens in Serbian municipalities within Kosovo, but also in bringing youth of Serbian and Albanian communities together. I was asking myself, how did they do it? How did they entice anyone, in such a polarised society, to participate in their projects? I write this because it is hard for me to imagine which projects could be successful in increasing citizen participation and dialogue between groups which hold each other in contempt, in the societies I come from. In the past, New Social Initiative implemented mechanisms to increase transparency of, and citizen interaction with, municipalities.

They created spaces (online and in real life) where Serbians and Albanians could exchange their perspectives, without fear of backlash from their own communities for “talking to the enemy.”

They combated negative narratives of the different communities about each other through spreading positive stories on the Internet.

They repeatedly campaigned for normalisation and dialogue between Serbia and Kosovo.

An example of a project by NSI


To  make it short, they fought to build trust between communities and to democratic institutions, to normalise relations, and to increase citizen engagement in political processes. 


So there we were, 20ish young students, sitting together in a classroom in front of our respective computer screens, eager to talk to representatives of the civil society organisation which is doing all this, excited to be allowed to learn about and from their experiences.


In retrospect, I would say that we did learn and hear so much that changed our perspectives and widened our horizons, yet the lesson was very different from what we expected.


We met with two young representatives of the Initiative, in their 20s or early 30s. They started by introducing themselves, telling us how they became involved with NSI, and explaining the political context to us. They gave the impression of sharp political analysis, stressed busyness and urgency, and—quite prominently—frustration. 


We spent quite some time talking about the current situation in North Kosovo. They looked increasingly exhausted while they explained to us that the legitimacy crisis after the boycott of the elections in 2023, political measures such as abolishing the dinar (the Serbian currency), and a perceived general lack of readiness for dialogue from the Kosovar government exacerbated the already existing tension between the minority Serb communities in the North and the rest of the predominantly Albanian Kosovo population. To hear them say that they believe that society is even more divided today than it was shortly after the war was not only heartbreaking but disturbing.


A picture of an empty voting booth, resulting from the boycott of the elections by the Serbian community, which led to a crisis of legitimacy of elected representatives for the Serbian municipalities.

“Disturbed” is a good word to describe how I felt after the Zoom meeting. The committed peacebuilders illustrated that they feel like all their work is pointless, their past achievements void, and the future bleak, as they believe that they are living more in a pre-conflict rather than a post-conflict society. Moreover, they expressed how their hopes that the international community—Europe—would support their aspirations to create a Kosovo where minorities are and feel valued, which has normalized relations with Serbia, and where trust exists between different communities, were frustrated, as the international attention for Kosovo increasingly weakened with the years. They explained that without this international pressure, political will from the Kosovo leadership is lacking, and without that, they cannot do much.


They said, Serbian Kosovo citizens experience so much economic insecurity and distrust of Kosovo institutions and law enforcement that it is just not feasible to encourage participation in a political system they perceive as illegitimate and to try to build trust in a community whose government they feel oppressed by. Some New Social Initiative projects came to a halt because youth are too afraid to be seen as traitors to their own communities if they participate in them.

So we left the Zoom meeting all with a feeling that can be summarised by the following question of a fellow student: “Genuinely, what is the point then in peacebuilding?” How much can you really do, if the political will from the government does not seem to be there? However, what also stuck with me is that the one encouraging thing the NSI representatives said is that they feel that informal dialogue, digital safe spaces, sometimes still create new connections between members of different communities. It sounded like he was grasping for something positive to tell us when he said that his work still made sense as long as even one new friendship was created that way, yet I believe that this is true. As Anne said, even when peacebuilding seems pointless, one must still do it. From what we’ve learned so far, positive change is only in the realm of possibilities when political will from above works together with civil engagement coming from the grassroots.

It feels to me like to stop fighting for more trust between different communities and citizen participation would only increase tensions. Moreover, if one does not keep the work going, I imagine that the social, institutional and physical infrastructure which makes peacebuilding projects such as those from NSI possible would start degrading. Then, if the political circumstances should change to become more favourable again, the infrastructure might need a lot of resources to be rebuilt again. Moreover, even if the horrifying outlook of a new armed conflict becomes true, perhaps having the infrastructure—the social networks—of the New Social Initiative in place could help civilians? However, I would of course understand if the individuals keeping NSI running would choose not to get burnout trying to keep it working.

Of course, I am only speculating here, from a position of having grown up with peace privilege. I am aware that by talking to the New Social Initiative we only heard one perspective, but I most surely will ask Prime Minister Kurti about his thoughts on this perspective when we meet him on Zoom next week.

My final conclusion is that NSI did and is doing amazing work, and I do firmly believe that it is not futile, not even in the current situation. I can only imagine that the people who participated in their projects were sustainably influenced, as this one meeting gave me so much to think about. I also now prepare myself, even more than before, to become immensely frustrated by peacebuilding, should I be lucky enough to work in this field, and then, to continue doing it nevertheless.