Balkan Journal | Mitrovica, Kosovo | 2022
North Mitrovica
Arriving from the south into the bus station, one would think Mitrovica is another ordinary Kosovo-Albanian city, but it is divided by the river that flows through it. The city serves as a textbook example of the division in some northern parts of Kosovo and shows the conflict in these two Balkan nations are far from over. Kosovo broke away from Serbia in 2008 when it declared its independence, which was recognised by many western nations, following a war it had against then the federal republic of Yugoslavia in 1998-1999. Along the Kosovo-Serbia border, pockets of Ethic Serbs and Albanians are the cause regional disputes and sometimes violence.
Mitrovica itself is peaceful for the most part today, with the Albanians living on the south side of the river and the Serbs in the north. Following the declaration of independence in 2008, North Mitrovica was reclassified as its own city separate from the rest of Mitrovica. In 2001, the ‘New Bridge’ was opened, connecting the north and the south of the city, to this day this is the only crossing and has never opened to vehicular traffic, remaining only open to pedestrians with roadblocks either side. The bridge over years has become significant in representing the ethnic division.
Isa Beg Mosque, South Mitrovica.
Walking around, the south side of Mitrovica has the busyness and charm that most Albanian cities do, with many outside drinking coffee outside cafés and markets in the street, noticeably the Isa Beg Mosque plays the Islamic call to prayer, much like many mosques in Kosovo. As you approach the river however the main street becomes a bit quieter, usually there are security on either ends of the bridge, in the past it was monitored by armed KFOR personnel, the NATO peacekeeping force still stationed in the country. A few people can be seen crossing the bridge but not many.
The bridge over the Ibar River
The Serb side of the city feels like you have entered a new country. The atmosphere is completely different, it is quieter, and the locals watch you as you cross over the bridge. One immediate change you notice is the alphabet changes from Latin to Cyrillic, with everything from shop fronts to bus stops. The further you venture into North Mitrovica the more Serbian it gets, with the flag of Serbia bunting hanging across the buildings and Serbian number plates on the cars. The most striking feature of the city is the graffiti and street art in the centre. They all portray Serbian nationalism and the struggle with Kosovo, one striking piece on the side of an old Yugoslav apartment block shows Kosovo Infront of a Serb flag next to Crimea over a Russian one. Many show soldiers or Orthodox Christian imagery or text.
Graffiti showing Kosovo and Crimea as Serbian and Russian respectively.
Serb Graffiti
Standing tall on the hill in the centre of the north side is the miner’s monument, or ‘spomenik’, the name for Yugoslav monuments. It is made from concrete and stands about 19 meters tall, resembling a trilithon. It was designed by Bogdan Bogdanović and erected in 1973 with the official name of the ‘Monument to the Serbian and Albanian Partisans’. The monument is to commemorate the partisans, mostly Serbs and Albanians from Mitrovica who mostly worked as miners, that fought in World War II against the occupying axis forces between 1941 to 1945. There are varying ideas on what the architecture of the monument represents, some say the two pillars represent Albanians and Serbs, the two peoples of Kosovo working together. Others say it is designed to look like the carts that carried ore out the mines. Down the side of the hill that it stands, is the abandoned half-finished construction of a sports arena.
Miner's Monument.
Abandoned sports arena.
Speaking with a local waiter when ordering a coffee, the Serbs in the north prefer to use the Serbian Dinar but accept my Euros as I’m not local. The waiter is only 19 but tells of how he has never crossed the bridge, keeping only to the north of the city and has only ever spoken to a Kosovo-Albanian and few times in his life. His parents would tell him when he was younger that he could never go over the bridge and that it was dangerous to do so because of the Albanians. When asking what country we were in, the response was ‘Serbia’ without hesitation.
North Mirovica.
Back over in the south of Mitrovica, when in the bus station and looking for a bus back to Prishtina, the capital of Kosovo, conversation strikes up when some Albanian girls begin to talk to me. I ask them the same questions I had asked the waiter in the North to which the answers were almost identical. They were of the same age and had the idea that the other side was dangerous, and neither had ever spoken to a Serb, at all.
Although violence in Kosovo is rare nowadays, Mitrovica is a prime example of how the conflict is far from over, and that the problems the two ethnicities had two decades ago have been passed down to the younger generations. With the volatile nature of the western Balkans and the deep ethnic divisions woven deeply within Kosovo, it is not easy to imagine this problem disappearing with new generations. And with world powers divided on the recognition of Kosovo, it is likely that the country will hang in partial recognition for the foreseeable future.