The Political Anatomy of the Collapse of DUNP

Edin Sadiković, professor and member of the executive board of GP Solidarity, explains why the fate of the State University of Novi Pazar goes far beyond the boundaries of a single institution and becomes a mirror of the government’s attitude toward Sandžak — revealing the scale of pressures, purges, and political signals that threaten to destroy one of the region’s key institutions.

To begin with, what is the current situation at the State University of Novi Pazar?

Like in Anna Karenina — “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Tolstoy opened his novel with those words, but today they naturally describe the fate of the State University of Novi Pazar. DUNP has become unhappy in its own way — one that not only affects professors and students, but also exposes the political anatomy of the current government’s relationship toward Sandžak.

What exactly is happening at the university during the blockade?

An unprecedented purge of employees is taking place before our very eyes. Professors, assistants, and students who supported the blockade (twenty-six of them) are losing their jobs or status in record time. That is not a number befitting a university. That is a number that would be shocking at the level of the entire state.

And yet, Sandžak remains silent. Institutions remain silent, Sandžak’s political parties remain silent, and even that part of the public that until yesterday spoke loudly about the interests of the region is now silent. That silence might be the loudest part of this story.

The question of the political background inevitably arises. Do you see this as retaliation by the regime?

Questions that many are afraid to ask are slowly emerging: is the government’s treatment of DUNP a form of political retaliation by Aleksandar Vučić’s regime for the April protests of students and citizens of Sandžak in Novi Pazar, when Sandžak showed that it is a part of Serbia and feels Serbia as its own?

Is the punishment aimed precisely at that unannounced demonstration of political maturity that exposed the politics of division? Or is perhaps the rumor true — the one that circulated in the bazaars after the Ohrid Agreement — that DUNP is being quietly shut down and that the University of Priština is to be transferred from Kosovska Mitrovica to take its place?

How likely are these interpretations and what do they tell us?

One thing is certain — both scenarios are the product of a policy by Aleksandar Vučić’s regime that long ago lost its compass. A policy that channels its frustrations, fractures, and insecurities through one region. And not just any region, but one that is historically and ethnically so complex that — if only for pragmatic reasons — it requires wisdom and patience, not a demonstration of brute force.

The symbolic significance of DUNP is often emphasized. What does it represent?

DUNP has from its very foundation been a symbol of coexistence. It is a rare institution that equally belongs to Orthodox Christians, Muslims, and atheists — to Serbs and Bosniaks alike. It belongs to the community, to students, to the local society.

It is also a symbol of the importance of education for Bosniaks in Sandžak. Madrasas survived even in the hardest times because every person contributed as much as they could — sometimes just a handful of flour or a spoonful of butter — and they are the most responsible for the beginnings of literacy in this region.

That is why the dismantling of DUNP is not merely an administrative decision — it is a blow to one of the few remaining points of progress and prosperity in Sandžak.

How important has the university been for youth and regional development?

It is no coincidence that this university became, in the decades after the 1990s, a barrier to the departure of young people from this region. DUNP was the reason generations stayed where they were born, studied at home, and built careers in their own city.

Shutting down such an institution — openly or quietly — means extinguishing the hope that this region can progress by relying on itself.

The authorities claim this is an “internal problem of the university.” Is that true?

Perhaps the most dangerous aspect of what is happening is precisely the attempt to portray this crisis as a technical issue, an “internal matter of the university.”

On the contrary — this is a political issue par excellence, a question of the state’s treatment of a community that has for too long demanded equal treatment yet too often receives the message that equality comes only through silence.

And today, silence hurts the most.

Are there clear solutions?

There is a solution — and it is clear. Despite attempts to present the situation as chaos with no exit, the solution has already been articulated. The students of DUNP have clearly defined their demands, and fulfilling them is the only path toward stabilizing the university and restoring public trust.

They demand what is the logical minimum for any serious academic community: dismissal of Rector Zana Dolićanin, whose management directly generated the crisis; the introduction of a provisional administration to stabilize the process; and reinstatement of dismissed professors and assistants to their positions. Only then can DUNP return to its primary mission — education, science, and service to the community.

Who must now show responsibility and solidarity?

All citizens, all political actors, and everyone who understands how important every resource is for building and nurturing the future of Sandžak must support the students and professors of DUNP.

An institution can be formally abolished by decree — but it is informally abolished the moment those to whom it belongs — citizens, students, professors, and the entire community — begin to believe that its fate is no longer their concern.

Until that happens, there is still hope.

And when it happens... it will be too late.