When you think of Europe, what comes to mind? Privileged, wealthy, influential. Growing up in Macedonia, a tiny country in the Balkans, I used to feel guilty and even responsible for the climate catastrophes the Global South is facing and fighting every day. It took me a long time to digest these feelings and realise that coming from the same continent doesn’t mean being equal. I’m European but from a periphery country in a region on the wrong side of the tracks. Not as exploited as the Global South, yet not truly part of the Global North. Sometimes, it feels like this region is unimportant enough for the world to care about.
On one hand, we are not facing nearly as many devastating consequences as the Global South, so why would they? On the other hand, my region is the poorest in Europe, with terrible air pollution and no means to export that pollution abroad (not that this is something to strive for – rather the opposite, we need to ensure this practice is eliminated). Living in this limbo adds a new barrier that activists face – trying to make the world listen and notice us. So, the questions remain. Why would the world care?
I unfortunately don’t know the answers to these questions yet. Trying to answer them by talking to other activists, both from the region and broader, led me to a series of issues distinctive to activism in the eastern part of Europe. The most thought-provoking is the lack of movements that focus on one specific issue (e.g. gas, waste management), the inability to collaborate with your neighbouring countries, and the “export” of activists.
One of the biggest issues in the Balkans, and more broadly Eastern Europe, is the lack of environmental movement and, within that, the lack of issue-specific movements. The lack of overall movement can be tied to poverty, the never-ending political and economic transition since the early 90s, and a general lack of education. When there is some noise about an issue, it dies down quickly amongst the empty promises of the people in charge and the burnout of the activists, as seldom can activism be something more than a hobby.
This leads to the subproblem – the lack of issue-specific movements. Since there aren’t many grassroots activists, the movements tend to cover a broader range of issues. This way, people who share the same love for the environment but fight from different angles can join, and the movement grows. However, this also means there’s a lack of capacity when focusing on a specific issue, which makes things flow slowly, and the momentum often gets lost. Collective action is one of the key elements to having an impactful movement. A famous proverb goes: If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. Considering that nature has no administrative borders and neighbouring countries usually face the same issues, having a united front with your neighbours against the polluters is crucial. But imagine not being able to collaborate with your neighbours. Once, I had an interesting conversation with a Greek activist about a planned joint gas plant (between Macedonia, my country, and Greece) and how we should proceed against it. But considering how the long-standing name issue (between our countries) created a hostile environment, it quickly dawned upon us that collective action is futile and can be used against the movement. If we dare even to voice support, the fossil fuel lobbyists and other profiteers would immediately begin the narrative of us being “name traitors”, which would then fuel the nationalists in both countries and the movement against fossil fuels will soon lose its purpose. And this situation is not an anomaly. Due to the complicated past, unresolved issues, and political tensions between countries in the region, all that can be currently done is quietly cheering our fellow activists while dreaming of a united front.
Lastly, “exporting” activists, which is something I didn’t notice until recently. I was having a discussion with a group of Eastern European activists when this issue was brought up. Often, whenever there’s a proactive young activist, they opt to study and, sadly, eventually, move to a Western European country due to the prospect of more resourceful education and activism as something more than a hobby. I myself am not immune to this phenomenon. Due to the lack of options to continue my further education exploring my specific topics of interest – energy transition and poverty, this autumn, I’m beginning my master’s programme in Western Europe. Although I plan to come back and implement what I’ve learned to better the systems here, for the time being, I, too, am calling Western Europe my temporary home.
What does the future hold for the activist environment in this forgotten part of Europe? Due to the turbulent political atmosphere, external interests, and the current lack of momentum, I believe only time can tell. But what gives me hope from working with activist groups from this region in the past few months is the enthusiasm to build a support network that, from collective complaining and quiet support, will one day bloom into a united voice, reaching beyond this side of the tracks.
Written by Ankica Sokolić
Disclaimer: I would like to highlight that this is my personal experience as an activist from the Balkans, navigating my work as a non-EU European. I completely understand that Europe is a diverse continent, and people from different regions might have different points of view being European. I am not trying to devalue anyone’s experience, just sharing my own.
