September 12, 2023 | Subotica, Serbia

Subotica, a quaint town in northern Serbia, lies just thirty minutes from the Hungarian border. The city boasts impressive Art Nouveau architecture —a reminder that this once used to be an important hub in the Austro-Hungarian empire. But beneath its regal exterior, a parallel world operates. The forests near the town’s centre serve as a shelter for those who dream of reaching Europe, no matter the risk to their lives.

One of these people is Ahmed, an eleven-year-old boy from Syria. He had seen advertisements on TikTok showing people crossing borders all the way from Turkey to Germany. In these videos, the crossing looked easy–small families were shown climbing over a ladder, sometimes even in broad daylight. He had an uncle in Germany and, with the consent of his parents, decided to join him and set off for Europe. 

After crossing the Turkish and Bulgarian borders, he arrived in the forests of Subotica. He wasn’t the only one —families, young groups of men, unaccompanied minors and single women tend to spend a night or two in before attempting to cross the fence. The majority originate from Afghanistan and Syria, others are from countries such as Libya, Palestine, and Burundi.

Last year, the Western Balkan route was by far the most popular migratory route, with almost 145 thousand people attempting to cross the border into the EU. In an effort to curb this irregular migration, the EU has committed to increase its spending on border management in the region. In March 2023, following Moldova, North Macedonia and Montenegro, Serbia became part of the European Migration Network (EMN), a network that allows partners to easily share sensitive information on migrants whom they suspect of crossing. 

Yet there are few frameworks in place to ensure that this increased EU funding into Serbia is used effectively and appropriately. For years, the Serbian police have attempted to crack down on irregular border crossings. In doing so, civil society organisations have repeatedly documented human rights abuses. Collective Aid, a rights organisation working at the border, reports that people are violently evicted from settlements, beaten and extorted for money. Sometimes they are arrested and driven south for six hours, only to be released in a random location and to make their way back north again. Other times, they are taken to a reception facility. Built in 2015, and financed by the International Organisation for Migration (IOM) and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), the facility is overcrowded and living conditions are dire. 

There are also reports that Serbian police profit from the criminal networks. The Balkan Investigative Reporting Network has exposed how corrupt police officers take cuts from the business by informing and collaborating with smugglers. Taxi drivers, who are not allowed to carry undocumented passengers, charge three times the usual fare –a price coordinated with the police. 

Ahmed has become familiar with the police’s violence and corruption. His legs and arms are covered in bruises. Last night, he crossed the fence into Hungary. Along with three other men, he managed to run for six hours until the Hungarian police caught up. At the police station, he was kicked and beaten with a baton. The plastic cuffs left deep marks on his wrists. His backpack and phone were confiscated, never to be returned, and the group was driven back to Serbia. There, the Serbian police demanded €400 for their release. The taxi ride away from the station cost them another €300. Despite losing his possessions and money, Ahmed is determined to try again tonight. He feels he has no other choice.

The deportation of those entering Hungary is illegal under European and human rights law, yet Hungarian police continue these illegal pushbacks. In 2021, amid reports of large-scale abuse, Frontex, the European border agency, suspended its operations on the Hungarian side of the border. It then shifted its focus to Serbia. Initially operating clandestinely, Frontex announced its mission in March. Since then, European police officers, especially from Italy, Germany and Austria, have been increasingly visible at the border. Despite calls from human rights groups for more transparency, the mission’s scope and accountability mechanisms remain unclear. This is especially concerning given that the Border Violence Monitoring Network (BVMN), a human rights watchdog, has reported cases of violence perpetrated by German and Italian officers. 

The outsourcing of border control to third-party countries like Serbia fits into a broader EU policy, with European officers training local border patrols as far away as Senegal. Serbia, eager to position itself as an intermediary between the EU, Russia, and China, has welcomed these agreements and the associated funding. But in reality, little changes on the ground. Abuse, harassment and violent evictions perpetrated by Serbian police officers remain a reality for people on the move. Applications for refugee status in Serbia, which the EU are encouraging, have a success rate far below European standards –only eight out of 1,257 people have qualified this year. Despite increasing efforts to fortify the 175 km-long border wall, the number of crossings on the Western Balkan route more than doubled last year. Without clear frameworks for accountability, it is questionable whether the EU’s increased support is effective, legal or humane.

In the evening, as we drive back from Horgoš to Subotica, we see police cars parked by the road and a group of young men being taken into the vehicle. Among them is Ahmed, along with several others we recognise from the settlement. He recognises us and tries to wave–his hands are tied. Before I can wave back, he is shoved into the police car. Who knows where his journey will end. 

This article is based on research done for Collective Aid and Medical Volunteers International in the period July-September 2023. Names have been changed for security reasons.