T wo years ago, I harboured no political ambition whatsoever. I was a student at the faculty of technical sciences in Novi Sad, my home town, pursuing a PhD in human resources and simply living my life. That was until the canopy collapse at the newly renovated train station in Novi Sad in November 2024, which killed 16 people. I took part in street protests and rallies in response to this shocking event, and like many others, realised that it needed to be a turning point.
This was not an unavoidable tragedy. Systemic corruption and a culture of entrenched impunity were obvious factors in the collapse. But instead of ordering a full and impartial investigation and coming clean on official failings, the authorities began pushing back against us for demanding justice. We were vilified and attacked in the streets but law enforcement did nothing. So we took refuge in our lecture halls and schools, barricading ourselves inside faculty buildings, ready for a long haul.
Democratic principles have long been ignored in Serbia but we made sure we observed them in our gatherings. As our coordination developed, we made sure we had the same clear goal for every demonstration we organised: pressuring a corrupt government to meet our demands. And these were demands that in any free country would have been accepted automatically. We wanted, for example, all the documentation concerning the renovation of Novi Sad railway station to be made public, without redaction, and that everyone responsible for the works be held to account. We demanded that those who assaulted us in the streets be arrested and prosecuted. Instead of agreeing, state officials began branding us fascists and traitors .
I was personally targeted for speaking out. As I handled media relations and communications, this often meant giving interviews to the country’s few remaining independent outlets. For this, I was accused by the regime’s propaganda machine of money laundering “millions” and conspiring with foreign powers. Others had to leave the country after being accused of high treason; some spent months in detention on manufactured, illegally obtained evidence. Many of us were placed under surveillance, our parents threatened, and many were fired from jobs and dragged through the mud in the pro-government popular press.
But none of that intimidation broke us; rather it hardened our resolve. And eventually, when it became clear the regime would never concede, we opted to enter the electoral arena ourselves. That was the genesis of the Student List . Through open, democratic plenary sessions, we nominated individuals of integrity and competence, people who were committed to justice and freedom for a silenced society.
Our aims were clear and never wavered: we wanted Serbia to be governed by the rule of law, independent public institutions, transparency and solidarity in a fractured nation. We marched thousands of kilometres across Serbia, campaigning relentlessly and in doing so helped, I believe, to rekindle hope among the broader public. State propaganda could not hope to drown out that much unfiltered grassroots momentum.
Now the regime has fallen, our collective effort to rebuild Serbia begins. True, sceptics may argue that we have filled parliament with political novices. The truth is that we have filled it with people eager to serve and willing to learn. Our newly elected representatives are professors, doctors, lawyers, farmers and scientists, all experts in their fields. Each has an established record of honest work and civic integrity. They may lack traditional political backgrounds, but they have spent the past two years studying the realities of governance and public trust. That very lack of direct political involvement is why the Serbian people have placed their faith in us: they did not vote for slick rhetoric or cynical manoeuvreing. They voted for clean hands.
We are neither promising, nor expecting overnight miracles as a result of this victory; rather we hope for something fundamentally radical for Serbia: normal, functioning institutions.
This mandate must first of all dismantle the culture of impunity. That requires verifiably independent prosecutors, fully transparent public procurement processes, and legal accountability for anyone who treated state resources as private spoils. For too long our teachers, healthcare workers and civil servants have seen their expertise subordinated to party loyalty cards. We want to restore the dignity of these dedicated public servants.
We have taken our country back, and are proud to stand as free citizens of Serbia. If this historic turning point proves anything, it is that this country does not belong to an untouchable ruling elite. It belongs to all of us. We have proven that dignity is non-negotiable. Now, the real work begins. This victory marks the end of institutional fear. For the first time in years, we can breathe freely.
Novak Simin is a member of Serbia’s Student List movement
