A large cluster of people stood frozen outside the Faculty of Philology, where antiquated scarlet trams gather under a cloudy January sky; above its doors hangs a large banner of a blood-red hand, fingers together and palm out on a white background. At first I think I’ve come across a flashmob or a protest of some kind, and while the latter is partly true, this is just a component of the protests which have been raging across the country since November. It is the memorial. It takes place every morning at 11:52, lasting fifteen minutes, and it is profoundly moving.

                11:52 as that is the time of the collapse of the canopy of Novi Sad Railway Station, and fifteen minutes for the number of lives this completely preventable tragedy took on 1 November 2024. The aftermath has seen tens of thousands take to the streets, enraged at the impunity of those involved and the corrupt and extractive political class more generally. Later that month came the student occupation of the University of Belgrade’s Philology and Philosophy departments, following an attack on a peaceful vigil on 22 November. It now acts as a headquarters for the student movement to coordinate protests and strikes, as well as hold lectures, readings, music nights and film clubs.

                “If  we don’t do something now, Serbia is heading for a complete fiscal breakdown,” says one of the students during a cigarette break outside the Philosophy department, plastered with posters and slogans of resistance. A small cluster of students is permanently stationed outside, and everyone who enters shows their university ID. Here and there members of the public arrive with donations of supplies: stacks of pizza boxes, large bottles of soft drinks and water, packets of crisps and unrecognisable savoury snacks.

                The main room of the occupation is quite a small classroom where a couple of dozen students are sat at tables having lunch, chatting with each other and scrolling on their phones. There is a constant rotation of people coming and going, a steady hum of conversation and activity. Spirits seem high. At the doorway, I witness how the first students I talk to go around the room, chatting to the others to reach the consensus to allow me in. It’s striking to see organisation on this level. It makes me somewhat mournful, both for the lack of activism of the majority of students back home, and the tragic causes which led to the students of Serbia mobilising in the first place. Cosmopolitan though Belgrade may be, there is simply no comparison.