The Review: The Balkans Edition II
- Denora Gashi
- Apr 8
- 10 min read
Hybrid Warfare and the "Serbian World" (Srpski Svet) in the Western Balkans
By: Denora Gashi
The Srpski Svet (Serbian World) doctrine is widely recognised as a modern reformulation of Slobodan Milošević’s “Greater Serbia” concept from the 1980s-90s, serving as a cornerstone in Milošević’s policies. Currently, the revival of this notion through the lens of Russian-backed hybrid warfare is evident in parallel with the resurgence of Russia’s updated Brezhnev doctrine, which positions Srpski Svet as a strategic rather than just a rhetorical framework in current Balkan geopolitics.
Serbia's relationship with Russia dates back to 1816. After gaining independence from the Ottoman Empire in 1878, this relationship deepened due to their shared Slavic and Orthodox Christian identity and mutual aversion towards Euro-Atlantic integration. Credit for the contours of Serbia’s foreign policy can be given to this historical proximity, with Belgrade consistently turning to Moscow for diplomatic support on matters regarding national interest, particularly evident with Russia’s support on UNSCRs at the United Nations Security Council on Kosovo. Simultaneously, Serbia has formed ties with Western actors such as France, Italy, and the United Kingdom, highlighting its balancing act between the East and West. This balancing act provides context for understanding the emergence and operations of strategic narratives such as Srpski Svet within the current hybrid conflict milieu in the Western Balkans (hereafter - WB). I situate the contemporary notion of Srpski Svet within this historical and geopolitical framework to ensure a clear understanding.
This doctrine represents a modern rearticulation of the “Greater Serbia” project in the late twentieth century. It has since resurfaced in parallel with the return of Russia’s sphere of influence thinking as well as its own Russkiy Mir (Russian World). Unlike its early formulation, its present-day use is not reliant on obvious territorial ambitions; rather, it provides a framework that is more flexible for Serbia to project influence across neighbouring states.
This article will explore the implications of this and demonstrate that Srpski Svet has evolved into a hybrid warfare tool that permits Serbia, often with backing from Russia (Robert Lansing Institute, 2025), to remodel political outcomes in the WB while remaining below the threshold of conflict. It draws on Kosovo’s parallel governance structures, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s institutional obstruction, and concludes with Montenegro’s religious mobilisation, all to convey how Srpski Svet adapts its hybrid toolkit to distinct political environments.
To understand Srpski Svet as a hybrid warfare tool requires approaching it not as a nationalist nostalgia but as a malleable doctrine. In practise, it draws heavily on sociocultural infrastructure, such as cultural identity and soft-power narratives. Former Deputy Prime Minister of Serbia, Alexander Vulin, has repeatedly framed Srpski Svet as a transnational project and declared in 2021 that “the task for this generation of politicians is to form a Serb world, that is to unite Serbs wherever they live” (Al Jazeera, 2021). This narrative has been further perpetuated by Serbian officials such as Foreign Minister Ivica Dačić and former President of Republika Srpska Milorad Dodik, who indicate that Serbian unity is a cross-border concern. While the language does not explicitly call for redrawing borders, it legitimises Serbia's interference in the internal affairs of neighbouring states, thereby justifying hybrid influence tools. This mirrors Russia’s compatriot policy, which frames ‘protection’ of Russian speakers abroad as a means of justifying cross-border intervention - what Russia did in South Ossetia (2008) and Crimea (2014). Just as Moscow uses compatriot protection to justify intervention in former Soviet states, Belgrade deploys Srpski Svet to legitimise its involvement in areas with a Serbian majority, thus employing “modern hybrid warfare” (Schmidt, 2016).
Hybrid warfare itself depends on ambiguity and multi-domain operations through the integration of, for instance, nonmilitary tools like disinformation and economic coercion with irregular/proxy actors. This facilitates the exploitation of vulnerabilities within WB societies where sovereignty, like Kosovo’s, is still being contested. Because the region's security environment features overlapping jurisdictions between local authorities and international missions, it creates gaps that grey-zone tactics can exploit. Kosovo is a clear illustration of this and how these gaps are operationalised, which subsequently has given parallel institutions backed by Belgrade the ability to function as instruments of external influence.
Kosovo is home to approximately 95,000 Kosovar-Serbs, with 52% residing in the south and 48% in the north (Elezi, 2024) - where administrative structures are tied back to Belgrade. The duality of these parallel structures can be seen through it providing essential public services, employment, salaries, and administrative functions for the Kosovar-Serb population. This is particularly prominent in areas where Prishtina’s institutional reach remained limited; it simultaneously also served as an instrument of Serbian state influence. Since 2024, these structures, deemed illegal under a 2013 Brussels agreement, have been forcibly closed (Stojanovic and Bami, 2025) as evidence of their exploitation for security purposes emerged. For example, Serbian intelligence services were present and active because of these networks; it revealed the discovery of weapons caches linked to Serbian civil defence units (A2CNN, 2025), and BIA-coordinated wiretapping operations against EU officials (Kuçi, 2025) were also exposed. While this has been framed as humanitarian support for an ethnic minority, the security apparatus embedded within these structures reflects how hybrid warfare exploits institutional ambiguity - providing legitimate services, all the while maintaining intelligence networks and the potential for escalation. They do this while still preserving plausible deniability. Media campaigns also supported this strategy, with pro-Serbian media outlets and Russian-backed platforms circulating narratives portraying Kosovo’s institutions as illegitimate or discriminatory, thus influencing public perception and using it to justify continued external involvement. Furthermore, the 2023 Banjska attack illustrates this pattern. An organised armed group of ethnic Serbs (~30 trained men, not random civilians) confronted Kosovo police in a clash that resulted in the death of one officer and three attackers (U.S. Department of State, 2025). It is necessary to recall that this attack was not random - these were networks that had been quietly operating for years and suddenly switched from bureaucracy to armed assault. This is the logic of parallel institutions in a hybrid warfare context.
What is more, these networks heavily depend on their economic leverage to sustain themselves. It is reported that Belgrade allocates €120 million annually from its budget for salaries, pensions and municipal services in northern Kosovo (Dekonink, 2025), in turn, creating dependencies that functionally dismiss Prishtina’s administrative authority. In November 2022, when Serbia orchestrated the recognition of Kosovar Serbs by local institutions (Bekim Bislimi and Cvetkovic, 2024), Belgrade immediately presented replacement contracts, making clear that control over participation in Kosovo’s governance was effectively in its hands. The subsequent institutional vacuum and rising tensions led NATO to deploy additional troops to the Kosovo Force (KFOR) (NATO, 2025) - a NATO-led peacekeeping mission. This points to how Belgrade can generate crises serious enough to trigger a military response without directly becoming involved. We also witnessed the dinar crisis (VOA News, 2024) that played out identically. In 2024, Kosovo banned Serbian currency and required the use of euros instead, leading to Kosovar-Serbs mobilising in Mitrovica, protesting that the ban was discriminatory and threatening their survival. This is a case of Prishtina asserting a basic state function that any recognised government would exercise. Many critics, including Western allies, argued that abruptly implementing the policy was problematic (Smith and O’Carroll, 2024). The ban was introduced with short notice and only limited support, which disproportionately affected some of the Kosovar-Serbs who relied on Serbian dinars for decades. Once enforced, the ban reflected survival concerns and also served Belgrade’s aim in portraying Kosovo’s authority as weak. If the ban were to have been a gradual process, the measure likely would have allowed parallel Serbian financial structures to continue, thereby allowing everyday forms of authority to also be maintained and thus sustaining Belgrade’s direct influence within Kosovo. Though it has been officially in action since February 2024, the ban remains largely unenforced in practise as dinars are still being used around northern Kosovo markets (Mitkovski, 2025) while formal banking channels comply with the euro-only regulation. This is the grey zone. When a normal government policy is adopted, its pre-existing dependencies are exploited and it is turned into a crisis in which grievances serve as strategic goals.
On the other hand, Bosnia and Herzegovina tells a different story, though equally important in terms of hybrid influence. Milorad Dodik, President of Republika Srpska (RS), which is home to over one million ethnic Serbs (~30.8% of Bosnia’s population), has made a career for himself by blocking state institutions. He often dismisses the Constitutional Court, challenges the High Representative’s authority, and argues that any challenge to RS autonomy sends a message that everyone is against the Serbs. What makes this effective is that these actions remain within legal boundaries since none of it violates the law. Dodik does not need paramilitaries; he just weaponises procedures (Davidović and Sahadžić, 2025) and obstruction (Muzaferija and Kelley, 2025) without crossing into open conflict.
Russia further encourages this strategy through diplomatic backing and calculated messaging that links Dodik’s moves to broader anti-Western narratives (Asllani, 2025). This subsequently leads to what some call a “strategic corridor of influence,” a direct line connecting Moscow, Belgrade, and Banja Luka, making it difficult to tell where Bosnia’s domestic politics ends and where Russian transnational competition begins. In contrast with Kosovo, where hybrid warfare utilises territorial contention and parallel structures, Bosnia’s version is more focused on targeting the constitutional system itself. Dodik does not need to seize land; he relies instead on making the state ungovernable by attacking its legal foundations and undermining its legitimacy. This is essentially Srpski Svet adapted to Bosnia’s setup: the same doctrine, but with different tactical tools.
In Montenegro, too, a similar picture is being painted. Here, the focus shifts to the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC), which weaponises liturgical ritual, turning prayer marches into political mobilisation. This is evidenced by the 2019-2020 clerical protests when the SOC organised litije (a festive prayer procession) (Banchev, 2021), which drew ~27,000 to 63,000 people attended (U.S. Department of State, 2025) at the start of 2020 against perceived legislation threat to church property. Again, the theme of “spontaneous” is absent here. This mobilisation was coordinated through Telegram channels, Facebook, and also livestreamed liturgies to encourage activism (National Endowment for Democracy, 2024) and to illustrate the government as an enemy of Orthodoxy; this style of operating was what scholars describe as “disciplined information campaigns” (Garaschuk and Sokolovskyi, n.d.). The political intention behind this became clearer when a high-ranking bishop called on voters to “vote against evil” (Anastasijevic , Holcomb and Miller, 2020) before the 2020 elections, which significantly contributed to the crumbling of the 30-year rule of the Democratic Party of Socialists. It can be said that Montenegro now represents Russia’s next focal point for hybrid interference. Despite obtaining NATO membership in 2017, Montenegro still remains polarised, with the SOC exerting influence and a majority of citizens consuming Russian-linked media. For instance, the 2016 coup attempt that was organised by Russian intelligence demonstrates just how willing Moscow is to use Montenegro as a pressure point against the Alliance. With Serbia's loyalty to Moscow coming into question (Support4Partnership, 2025) due to it courting EU membership amid the Ukraine conflict, and RS facing increased Western pressure, Montenegro offers Russia a “low-cost battlefield” (Robert Lansing Institute, 2025). This would only take minimal effort to destabilise a NATO state, hence, humiliating the Alliance while proving WB integration is not as secure as it may seem.
Across these three cases, it is clear that Srpski Svet does not function as a one-size-fits-all strategy, but rather a framework that can be molded and shaped to adapt its hybrid tools to local elites (depending on what situation needs it). In Kosovo, this takes the form of parallel structures and an orchestrated crisis; in Bosnia, institutional obstruction and legal warfare; and in Montenegro, cultural mobilisation through religious networks. The doctrine’s appeal lies in its flexibility: it offers a strategic rationale for engagement without requiring territorial demands or the use of conventional force.
International peacekeeping missions, like KFOR, EULEX, and EUFOR, operate within this landscape, though not always as designed. They have played a major role in maintaining peace and stability by preventing escalation and supporting post-conflict reconstruction since the early 2000s. EULEX has particularly shown its capabilities when monitoring police and judicial institutions, advising Kosovo Police in the north and tracking sensitive criminal cases. Yet, even with these adaptations, the missions were built for a different kind of war. They are required to keep peace and rebuild institutions, not to deal with disinformation or corrupt cash flows. This does not mean it is a success of the missions; it is rather a mismatch between Cold War-era peacekeeping models and 21st-century grey-zone conflict.
The hybrid dilemma targets this directly. Srpski Svet operates in these spaces, knowing that these missions cannot reach them easily: the cultural networks that the SOC mobilises in Montenegro, economic leverage Belgrade maintains in Kosovo, and Dodik’s obstruction in Bosnia. Looking at the multinational structure of these missions, it appears to create only more openings. Hybrid actors exploit this mismatch and are able to move unilaterally; international missions move diplomatically. By the time KFOR or EULEX manage to coordinate a response to Belgrade’s latest crisis, the damage is already done, and deniability is secured. The emphasis that the mission has placed on dialogue made sense for post-war peacekeeping, but it is a liability when Belgrade treats negotiations as just another delaying tactic. However, the problem worsened in 2018, when EULEX lost its executive powers, becoming mostly an advisory body - right at the time when hybrid threats were escalating. The missions that once were able to act decisively now mainly observe and advise. That gap demands new approaches. This could look like bilateral security pacts among WB states or even potentially a regional counter-hybrid framework that can respond at a rate that multilateral consensus structures cannot match.
The importance of this phenomenon goes beyond the Balkan borders. Srpski Svet does well in representing a contemporary case study in how modern revisionist powers operate. They do not operate through tanks crossing borders, but instead, through institutions, economics, and sociocultural infrastructure. Russia’s sabotage campaigns that occurred across Europe, such as with the DHL parcels exploding across the UK, Poland, and Germany, are just an example of how incidents have surged roughly from 2 in 2018 to 35 in 2024, and a sharp acceleration in 2025 (Tauschinski and Jones, 2025). This is significant because it emphasises that the model works: hybrid warfare can be effective against NATO members, who have advanced intelligence, without even needing to trigger Article 5. It serves as validation for Moscow and Belgrade by suggesting that these operations can succeed: proof that Srpski Svet will not just be tolerated in the Balkans, but has what it takes to be scaled across the continent.
Serbia, with Russian backing, has taken Srpski Svet from nostalgia into an operational hybrid warfare doctrine that reshapes political outcomes across the WB while maintaining distance and staying below the war threshold. This “playbook” varies by location - the parallel governance in Kosovo, Bosnia’s institutional obstruction, Montenegro’s religious mobilisation, among other tactics. However, the strategy remains consistent: identify weaknesses and leverage them to maintain influence across borders that connect Moscow, Belgrade, and Serbian populations through the Balkans.
And finally, the question is not whether Srpski Svet will continue evolving - it is whether Western institutions are adequately equipped to adapt fast enough to counter it before the Balkans become a permanent grey zone on Europe’s doorstep.
.png)



Comments