Between the Shield of the State and an Instrument of Political Repression
For ordinary citizens, its work is shrouded in mystery. Activists perceive it as an instrument of intimidation, while pro-government media portray it as a shield of the state. Instead of acting within its legally prescribed role of protecting against serious security threats, the Security Information Agency (BIA) increasingly appears in practice as a tool of political repression, selectively intervening against protests and civic activism.
Fear of surveillance, wiretapping, and unannounced “informative talks” with members of the service has become part of everyday life for those who dare to raise their voices. Activists have testified that unidentified individuals from the BIA contacted them, detained them, and questioned them without warrants. One activist said that spyware was installed on his phone during such an encounter. All indications suggest that this was not an isolated case, but that “informative talks” were often abused to infect activists’ phones with spyware.
Following the publication of Amnesty International’s forensic analysis, which confirmed traces of spyware on the phones of several activists, the application’s identification number indicated that more than 600 phones may have been potentially infected with the domestic software NoviSpy. The scale of this unlawful and unconstitutional practice is further underscored by the fact that the use of spyware was not limited to prominent civic activists, but was also discovered on the phones of farmers who participated in protests. After the publication of this report, the practice was further radicalized: activists’ phones are physically destroyed after data extraction, effectively preventing any subsequent detection of traces of unauthorized access.
Criminalization of Protests and Plea Bargains
Charges of incitement to the violent overthrow of the constitutional order (sedition) enabled the involvement of BIA members in proceedings and served to legitimize claims that peaceful protest participants were in fact seeking to violently overthrow the state and its institutions. Pressure on activists through the initiation of numerous misdemeanor proceedings did not produce the expected results; despite the burden these proceedings imposed, they paradoxically became a pretext for further escalation and a shift toward criminal prosecution.
A discernible pattern exists whereby statements by the highest state officials precede or accompany prosecutorial actions, particularly in cases involving allegations of sedition. After President Aleksandar Vučić repeatedly spoke publicly about attempts to violently seize institutions, arrests and indictments against protest participants soon followed.
The criminal offense of sedition, prescribed by Article 309 of the Criminal Code of the Republic of Serbia, prescribes imprisonment for anyone who, “with the intent to endanger the constitutional order or the security of the Republic of Serbia, calls for or incites the use of force to change its constitutional order.” Although similar offenses exist in many legal systems, in Serbia the boundary between the legitimate protection of the constitutional order and repression against citizens is becoming increasingly blurred. This offense is increasingly taking the form of a “rubber norm” a flexible provision applied selectively and arbitrarily, often without clear legal criteria.
An examination of judgments of the Higher Court and the Court of Appeal in Belgrade reveals a troubling trend. Of seven analyzed judgments, five were rendered based on plea agreements, and in these cases, it was not clearly described what constituted the specific call to violence, an essential element that must be stated by law. In practice, symbolic acts such as holding banners or throwing objects are easily interpreted as calls for the violent overthrow of the authorities, even when there is no clear and direct call. This seriously blurs the distinction between political protest and criminal liability.
In the case of a well-known activist who carried a banner and a doll depicting the President, charges were brought precisely under Article 309 of the Criminal Code, despite the absence of an explicit call to violence. The judgment was rendered based on a plea agreement signed during pre-trial detention, without a trial. In the case of a journalist who stated at a rally that “kids will have to resolve Serbia’s fate with rifles,” the Court of Appeal overturned the judgment, stating that this offense requires clear intent, an explicit call, and awareness that one is inciting a violent change.
Particularly concerning is the fact that in several cases plea agreements were concluded while activists were still subject to 48-hour police detention, which seriously calls into question their voluntariness. Although the law provides that courts must review and approve such agreements, dismissals are extremely rare in practice. Recent examples from Niš, where judges refused to confirm such agreements, surprised prosecutors; at a professional meeting this was commented on with the words: “No one dismisses plea agreements!”
The Constitutional Order Between Protection and Abuse
The constitutional order is not merely a set of laws. It defines the basic rules of how the state functions, who has the right to decide, how power is divided and limited, what citizens can do and what the state is not allowed to do. It enshrines that no one is above the law, that citizens have the right to speak, protest, vote, and be elected, that courts are independent, and that authorities are accountable. It is a shared agreement on how we live together and how we resolve disputes when we disagree.
When someone attempts to seize power violently, abolish institutions, ban elections, or suppress fundamental freedoms, they do not merely overthrow a government—they undermine the constitutional order itself. That is why its preservation is one of the most important issues for any state. But therein lies a trap: if the authorities decide to interpret every criticism or protest as an attack on the constitutional order, the state itself becomes the force that undermines its own foundations.
This process does not occur abruptly. It does not come with an overt ban on protests or a formal abolition of rights. On the contrary, it unfolds gradually, almost imperceptibly. Like a frog placed in cold water that is slowly heated, society gradually acclimatizes to new “normalities.” By the time the temperature reaches the point at which rights effectively cease to apply, the space for reaction has already been severely narrowed.
In such an environment, preserving the constitutional order ceases to be a matter of protecting democratic values and becomes a political narrative used to justify repression. The long-term consequence of this approach is not increased security, but the erosion of trust in institutions, the weakening of civic participation, and the normalization of fear as a tool of governance. If clear boundaries, effective institutional oversight, and genuine accountability for abuses are not established, the risk lies not in the violent overthrow of the constitutional order, but in its de facto suspension—through practices that formally recognize rights while substantively rendering them impossible.
Author: Milan Filipović, Director of Research, Lawyers’ Committee for Human Rights (YUCOM)
