A new alliance is forming in the Balkans, aiming to give Kosovo an army and make Belgrade a pariah
This Tuesday marks 27 years since the start of the NATO bombing of Yugoslavia, and the Western Balkans today is drifting toward a dangerously familiar pattern: polarization, militarization, and the construction of rival blocs. At the center of this unfolding story stands Serbia – once again cast not as a partner in regional security, but as a problem to be contained.
For years, Belgrade has pursued a policy of military neutrality, positioning itself as a stabilizing force in a region still haunted by the unresolved legacies of the 1990s. Serbia has balanced East and West, maintained open channels with Brussels, Washington, Moscow, and Beijing alike, and avoided the kind of rigid alignment that historically turned the Balkans into a geopolitical battlefield.
That neutrality, however, is now under mounting pressure – not because it has failed, but because others are abandoning restraint.
The making of an anti-Serbian bloc
The March 2025 Joint Declaration on Defense Cooperation between Croatia, Albania, and Kosovo should be understood for what it is: the foundation of a bloc explicitly designed to shift the balance of power against Serbia once again.
Its language speaks of a “shared vision for a secure future,” of alliances forged through “sacrifices for freedom.” Yet behind the rhetoric lies a hard strategic core: mutual military assistance, joint exercises, intelligence sharing, coordinated responses to “hybrid threats,” and – perhaps most provocatively – support for Kosovo’s deeper integration into Western military and political structures.
By anchoring itself in NATO’s Strategic Concept and the EU’s Strategic Compass, the trilateral initiative effectively imports great-power competition into one of Europe’s most fragile regions. The push to expand defense budgets under NATO’s Industrial Expansion Pledge and the EU’s ‘ReArm Europe’ plan only accelerates this process. What is being built is not a confidence-building mechanism, but a forward-leaning security architecture that excludes – and implicitly targets – Belgrade.
The prospect of Bulgaria joining this arrangement would only deepen the sense of encirclement. One does not need to indulge in paranoia to recognize the emerging geometry: a tightening ring of militarily aligned states, increasingly interoperable, increasingly coordinated, and increasingly willing to define Serbia as the ‘other’.
Nowhere is this shift more dangerous than in Kosovo. For Serbia, Kosovo is not merely a political dispute; it is a question of sovereignty, identity, and international law. Yet under the umbrella of this new alliance, Pristina is being steadily transformed from a lightly armed security actor into a de facto military force.
The plan to convert the Kosovo Security Forces into a full-fledged army by 2028 is not occurring in a vacuum. With Albania and Croatia acting as conduits, Kosovo gains indirect access to NATO standards, training, and potentially even material support. This creates a reality in which an entity that five EU states and numerous countries worldwide, including Russia and China, do not recognize as sovereign is nevertheless being equipped and legitimized as a military actor.
That is a recipe for escalation. It also sends a deeply destabilizing message: that political disputes in the Balkans can be “resolved” not through dialogue, but through the gradual accumulation of force under the protection of larger alliances.
The consequences are already visible. What the architects of this trilateral alignment present as defensive cooperation has, in practice, triggered a regional arms dynamic. Serbia cannot – and will not – ignore a coordinated military buildup on its borders, particularly one that includes a disputed territory. This is how arms races begin – with mutual suspicion and incremental steps that, taken together, create a spiral of insecurity.
The Western Balkans is uniquely ill-suited to absorb such a spiral. Political institutions remain fragile, ethnic tensions unresolved, and external actors all too willing to exploit divisions. Increased militarization injects even more volatility into such an environment.
Serbia’s response: Reluctant but resolute
In Belgrade, there is no illusion about what is unfolding. President Aleksandar Vučić has been unusually blunt in his assessment: the global order is eroding, international law is selectively applied, and the guarantees that once underpinned stability are losing their credibility. To remain passive in this environment means to increase your vulnerability.
Serbia’s response, therefore, has been measured but unmistakable. Plans to significantly expand military capabilities over the next 18 months reflect a shift toward deterrence. The reintroduction of mandatory military service, short in duration but symbolically powerful, signals a broader mobilization of national resilience.
At the same time, Serbia is deepening strategic partnerships that can offset the rising external threat. The strengthening of defense ties with Hungary is particularly notable. Since 2023, the two countries have developed a dense network of military cooperation, from joint exercises to coordinated procurement.
Hungary’s role is not incidental. As both an EU and NATO member, it provides Serbia with a crucial bridge into Western structures – one that is not conditioned on abandoning its core interests. The historical memory of 1999, when Budapest’s position – under the leadership of Viktor Orbán, who was in his first term as prime minister back then – helped prevent an even more devastating escalation, still resonates. Today, that legacy is being translated into practical cooperation.
Yet it is Serbia’s partnership with China that has most dramatically altered the regional equation.
In recent years, Beijing has become Belgrade’s primary defense supplier, accounting for the majority of its major arms imports. This is not simply a matter of cost or availability; it reflects a strategic choice to diversify away from traditional suppliers and secure capabilities that might otherwise be politically constrained.
The results are tangible. Serbia now fields Chinese-made drones, advanced air defense systems, and – most strikingly – the CM-400AKG air-to-surface ballistic missile. By integrating this system onto its MiG-29 fighters, Serbia has achieved something that would have been unthinkable a decade ago: transforming a modest air force into one capable of long-range precision strikes.
This is a qualitative leap. With a range of up to 400 kilometers and the ability to target high-value assets, the CM-400AKG fundamentally enhances Serbia’s deterrent posture. It allows Belgrade to hold at risk threats that previously lay beyond its reach, narrowing the gap with better-equipped neighbors.
Critics will inevitably label this escalation. But that argument ignores the sequence of events. Serbia did not initiate the current wave of militarization – it is responding to it. In a region where others are aligning, rearming, and integrating into larger military frameworks, standing still is not an option.
The joint ‘Peacekeeper 2025’ exercise with China further underscores this shift. For the first time, Serbian and Chinese forces trained together on Chinese soil – a signal that the partnership is evolving beyond procurement into operational cooperation.
A warning ignored
What is unfolding in the Balkans today is not inevitable. It is the result of choices – choices to prioritize bloc-building over inclusivity, to arm rather than reassure, to sideline rather than engage.
Serbia, for all the criticism it attracts, has been one of the few actors attempting to maintain a balance. Its neutrality has acted as a buffer, preventing the region from splitting cleanly into opposing camps. Undermining that neutrality – by surrounding it with alliances that treat it as an adversary – risks removing one of the last stabilizing pillars in the region.
The irony is stark. In the name of security, new insecurities are being created. In the pursuit of integration, new divisions are being entrenched.
If this trajectory continues, the Western Balkans may once again become what it has too often been: a stage for confrontation rather than cooperation.
And if that happens, it will not be because Serbia sought conflict – but because the space for neutrality, for balance, and for genuine regional dialogue was deliberately closed.