Search

“I don’t want to tolerate you, I want to love you!” said Muhamed Jusufspahić, the Chief Mufti of the Islamic Community of Serbia, during a 2015 debate on religion and tolerance at the University of Belgrade that cut through the room like some sort of revelation. In a region that was affected by significant ethnic and religious divisions, these words echoed a call for genuine acceptance and pluralism. As I argued in my article published earlier this year in a special issue of The Review of Faith & International Affairs, this sentiment aligns closely with the concept of covenantal pluralism that promotes “robust, relational, and nonrelativistic” coexistence amid profound differences, as articulated by scholars like W. Christopher Stewart, Chris Seiple, and Dennis R. Hoover. It emphasizes not just mere tolerance, but an active engagement across divides that is grounded in mutual respect and shared civic virtues.

And yet, it seems that covenantal pluralism in Serbia and the broader Western Balkans have a bleak outlook. As a political scientist studying religion and politics in the region, I argue that at least three interconnected challenges—historical legacies, the legal framework, and the transnational nature of dominant religious actors in the region—hinder realization of covenantal pluralism in Serbia.

The Weight of History

Serbia’s history is a vivid example of how deeply intertwined relations between religion and national identity and state-building can be. The Great Schism of 1054 divided the Balkans between Eastern and Western Christianity, setting the stage for enduring fault lines: Serbs predominantly aligned with Orthodoxy, Croats and Slovenes with Catholicism, and Bosniaks and Albanians with Islam emerging from the Ottoman-era. This division was not abstract; it shaped identities, cultures, and tradition with religion serving as the primary marker of ethnicity despite often shared linguistic and cultural roots.

In medieval Serbia, the establishment of an independent Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC) in 1219 fostered a close church-state bond, often described as symphonia. Notable historians of the Church note the Church’s loyalty to the state in this era, an alliance that was paradoxically even more strengthened under the Ottoman rule (1459–1878). During this time, the SOC became a “state within a state” by preserving the Serbian culture, language, tradition and identity through myths like the 1389 Battle of Kosovo, which will later become a foundational narrative of Serbian nationalism. The Ottoman period also planted seeds of resentment, as Islamization of the local population led to the perceptions of Muslims as an essentialized “other” in the region.

Liberation movements in the 19^th century, openly supported by SOC clergy, reinforced Orthodoxy as central to Serbian nationhood. The 20^th century brought further turmoil: World War I unified diverse religions into the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, but tensions erupted in the 1937 Concordat crisis, straining SOC-Catholic relations. Communism after 1945 suppressed all faiths, expropriating church property and persecuting clergy, with the SOC suffering probably the most because of its ties with monarchist ideas. The 1990s Yugoslav wars, while not religious per se, amplified divisions—Orthodox Serbs, Catholic Croats, and Bosniak Muslims clashed along Huntington’s “clash of civilizations” lines. Furthermore, Kosovo’s crisis in 1999 further entrenched narratives, with the SOC proclaiming it the “heart and soul” of Serbia and Serbian people.

Legal Dimensions: Favoritism Over Equality

The post-2000 democratic transition in Serbia offered hope. However, while the 2006 Serbian Constitution declares a clear secular nature of the state, the 2006 Law on Churches and Religious Communities distinguishes “traditional” churches from “confessional communities,” granting the former automatic registration, religious education in schools, and special privileges. The SOC is singled out for its “historic, nation-building” role, echoing etatization and state favoritism toward the dominant faith.

The 2006 Law is often labeled as discriminatory by various critics. The Law also ignores internal splits like the two Islamic communities (one tied to Belgrade, the other to Sarajevo and Bosnia and Herzegovina) and requests complex registration for minority religions. In 2013, Serbia’s Constitutional Court upheld the Law, rejecting discriminatory challenges. This legal framework undermines one of covenantal pluralism’s core requirements: equal treatment of religions under law. Without it, minorities feel marginalized, perpetuating “othering” rather than fostering mutual literacy, engagement, and virtue.

Transnational Actors

Dominant religious players in the Balkans—the SOC, Croatia’s Catholic Church, and Bosnia’s Islamic Community—operate transnationally, extending influence beyond borders of their respective countries. The SOC clergy, for instance, often view Muslims and Croats as “converted Serbs,” at the same time denying Montenegrin identity and language. Patriarch Irinej’s 2019 statement tied Serbian identity exclusively to Orthodoxy, while Bishop Amfilohije’s 2014 defense of 18th-century ethnic cleansing of Muslims shocked many. Similar patterns emerge elsewhere: Bosnian Serb leader Milorad Dodik’s Islamophobia, or former Reis Mustafa Cerić’s inflammatory rhetoric against Serbs, followed with the Catholic-Orthodox tensions over WWII atrocities and Cardinal Stepinac’s 1998 beatification. As such, religion and faith become weak and are often instrumentalized for nationalism, as seen in the 1990s wars.

Foreign influences exacerbate this. Russia leverages Orthodox ties to promote anti-EU agendas in Serbia and Bosnia’s Republika Srpska, while Turkey influences Bosniak Muslims via Islamic communities, their mosques and imams, and finally its soft power in the region. A 2022 European Parliament resolution highlighted these interferences, sowing division and biased histories.

Possible Pathways Forward

Evaluating Serbia through covenantal pluralism’s three dimensions—freedom of religion or belief (FoRB) and equal treatment, cross-cultural religious literacy, and embodiment and expression of virtuous character in multi-faith engagement—reveals important gaps. While FoRB indeed exists “on paper,” religion lacks equal treatment; religious literacy has never been researched in-depth in the region, but we can assume it is not high, and virtues like humility and courage require cultivation both from “above” and from “within,” despite the authoritarian tendencies.

That is why I believe that Serbia (and the Western Balkans in general, for that matter), in order to advance towards covenantal pluralism, needs several preconditions: (1) full democratization of society, including revising the 2006 Law; (2) enhanced religious education via comparative curricula; (3) severing ties with authoritarian influencers like Russia and Turkey, and (4) abandoning nationalist rhetoric by both political and religious elites.

Covenantal pluralism isn’t utopian—it’s practical for a region weary of conflict. As Mufti Jusufspahić urged, moving from tolerance to love demands bold steps. Only then can Serbia’s diverse faiths coexist productively, turning historical barriers into bridges for a shared future.