SOCIOLOGIST MARKO ŠKORIĆ ON INSTITUTIONALIZED VIOLENCE: In Serbia, loyalty is stronger than the law

1. As a sociologist, how do you explain the fact that violence against citizens who protest or express a political stance is increasingly being justified and relativized in society?

The justification—or even affirmation—of violence against political dissenters is a consequence of key social processes that undermine social cohesion and alter the normative framework of society. Every society is based on a consensus about acceptable and unacceptable behavior, and in stable liberal democracies, physical violence as a means of resolving political disagreements falls into the category of the unacceptable. However, in a state of prolonged political polarization, this consensus erodes and what sociologists call anomie sets in—old norms lose their force, become unclear, or disappear, while new ones have not yet been established. This is why violence becomes relativized, especially by the ruling structure. This can be interpreted as a response to a crisis of legitimacy, which manifests itself through mass protests following the collapse of the canopy. Thus, violence against “our side” is a crime, while violence against “their side” is interpreted as “legitimate defense,” the “restoration of order,” or even a “patriotic act.”

Serbia is a fragmented society in which sharply opposed identity groups (“us” versus “them”) have long coexisted. Political opponents are no longer seen as fellow citizens with different opinions, but as an abstract and hostile category—“traitors,” “foreign mercenaries,” “state destroyers,” and the like. Such representations, which certainly constitute a form of dehumanization, make violence easier to justify because social distance is transformed into moral distance.

2. What is the role of the media in the normalization of violence?

   
   

It is clear that, beyond mere reporting, the media also tell the audience how to think and how to feel about actors and events. That is why they cannot be viewed only as passive transmitters of information or as a neutral mirror of reality. They are powerful social actors that actively construct our perception of reality and therefore play a crucial role in how violence is understood—and can also justify and normalize it. This power is already evident at the very first step, when deciding what is newsworthy and what is not. After that, framing is extremely important, because the same event can be presented in completely different ways. Protesters can be labeled as “opposition,” “demonstrators,” “extremists,” “terrorists,” or “spies,” each carrying a heavy moral charge. Likewise, police actions can be described either as “brutal repression” or as “the establishment of public order and peace.”

Of course, some will say that all sides use harsh rhetoric, but here we must understand the fundamental asymmetry of power—it is one thing when a citizen or the opposition criticizes the government, which is the essence of democracy, and quite another when the state apparatus systematically dehumanizes citizens using its entire media machinery. This is not a debate; it is a preparation for violence.

If pro-regime media persistently speak for months about a “hybrid war,” a “color revolution,” or a “Maidan scenario,” protests acquire a security dimension in addition to a political one, which makes it easier to accept violence as a “necessary” and “patriotic” act. All such media provide the authorities with moral cover for repression. And finally, when aggressive rhetoric and dehumanization are constantly repeated, they become part of everyday political folklore. Through moral and emotional numbing, violence ceases to be an exception and becomes an acceptable state of affairs. The end result is not only its normalization, but also the destruction of the public sphere as a space for rational dialogue and its complete transformation into an arena of permanent political conflict.

3. What does it say about the state of society when the highest representatives of the authorities, including the president, publicly defend the perpetrators of violence, relativize their actions, and when judicial institutions acquit perpetrators of brutal violence even when there is video evidence and numerous witnesses?

   
   

Such a situation is a symptom of the structural pathology of society. The president should have a key symbolic role and defend the most important social norms and values. However, when he defends the perpetrator, he performs what is known as a normative inversion—antisocial behavior in the form of violence and primitivism is presented as a patriotic act, while prosocial behavior in the form of peaceful civic protest and the fight for the public interest is branded as treasonous and anti-state. In this way, the government not only tolerates the state of anomie, but actively produces and legitimizes it. This very normative inversion at the highest level directly creates a political and social environment in which the functioning of a captive judiciary is not only possible, but even expected.

What we are witnessing is the result of a captured state in which the judiciary loses its independence and becomes an instrument of those in power. Instead of the rule of law, there is rule by law, which serves as a tool for achieving political goals and protecting regime interests. The release of violent individuals connected to the authorities is not a flaw in the system, but a defining characteristic of a system that functions precisely in this way within a captured state.

Marko Škorić, full professor at the Faculty of Philosophy in Novi Sad

Can we speak of institutionalized violence in such cases, and how does it affect citizens’ trust in the state and its institutions?

Yes, that is precisely the point. It is not about violence despite the system, but about violence because of and by the system. It is politically motivated, systemic, and predictable, as it always follows a similar pattern and is directed against the same targets—political dissidents, regime critics, and the like. Moreover, this takes place under the protection of institutions—the police ignore the cases, the public prosecutor’s office sabotages them, and the courts grant impunity.

Trust is the foundation of a democratic society and is based on the belief that institutions act impartially, predictably, and in the public interest. The loss of institutional trust is not merely an abstract feeling of disappointment—it has concrete consequences: institutions are no longer perceived as guardians of citizens’ rights, they lose their moral authority, and they become instruments for controlling and disciplining society. At the same time, society becomes apathetic, anomic, and fragmented. This makes authoritarian rule easier, as the capacity for organized resistance is weakened.

All these processes also undermine so-called ontological security, which is based on the feeling that the world we live in is stable, predictable, and meaningful. For this reason, trust in institutions is not only a political or legal issue, but also a psychological one, because functioning institutions safeguard our sense of order and normality.

5. How does this practice shape the behavior of young people and their understanding of what is permissible and forbidden, especially in relation to violence and social justice?

   
   

The impact on young people is undoubtedly the most devastating long-term consequence for society, as the regime systematically works to shape the social and moral code of future generations. Given the careers and impunity of violent actors within circles of power, many young people today understand that success in Serbia does not depend on knowledge, work, or talent, but on loyalty and belonging to the ruling group. Instead of identifying with values such as justice, equality, and solidarity, they learn that power is more important than rights and that loyalty is stronger than the law. This everyday reality has produced generations that increasingly ask not what is right, but what is useful and what ensures their personal safety.

Nevertheless, the collapse of the power apparatus has shown that it is possible to respond differently to such a system and that indoctrination from above is not all-powerful. Instead of apathy and opportunism, rebellion and resistance have emerged. Many young people have realized that lost trust and lost freedom can be actively rebuilt and reclaimed—on the streets, at universities, in communities, and elsewhere.

We are currently witnessing processes that are redefining the concept of justice, moving it from the abstract into the realm of everyday struggle. The question of what is permissible and acceptable is increasingly becoming the primary means of defending human dignity.

6. Why did you decide to join the Solidarnost party? What attracted you to it?

   
   

I believe the moment has come when social passivity is no longer morally acceptable. As the erosion of justice, equality, and solidarity unfolds before our eyes, alongside the ruthless spread of nationalism, I saw this form of engagement as my civic duty. It is evident that left-wing ideology has been neglected in Serbia for decades, even though it should form the foundation of a path toward social recovery, because we still have the potential to become a modern and just European society.

In this sense, the Solidarnost movement brings together two key elements that are rare in our political landscape: a genuine left-wing ideology with a clear value system, and a horizontal form of organization that is not based on the authority of a single leader, but on debate and the synthesis of diverse ideas. It is founded on the strength of arguments and collective action. For me, this was crucial, because democracy cannot be built through authoritarian means, nor can equality be achieved through nationalism. Ultimately, this shows that a different kind of politics is not only possible—but already exists.