Serbians Get Visa-Free Travel: EU Welcomes 'Leper of Europe' Back into the Fold

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The officers at the border patrol command post in Subotica are very familiar with their clientele. Seventy percent of those apprehended are Kosovo Albanians, followed by Afghans, Iraqis and sub-Saharan Africans. Most take the classic Balkan route, which leads from Turkey through Kosovo and Serbia to the West. For the would-be illegal immigrants, the city of Subotica, located close to the Hungarian border, serves as a rendezvous point and a springboard into the good life.

The city of 100,000, once part of Austria-Hungary and known as Maria-Theresiopolis until 1918, offers an interconnected network of services for illegal immigrants from around the world. From the bus terminal, where travelers arrive from Belgrade and other cities in the Balkans, taxi drivers take their passengers to their next stop, either the last gas station before the Hungarian border or unobtrusive establishments like the Hotel Zimmer. A former private residence on Vladimir Danic Street owned by a Mr. Varga, the Hotel Zimmer offers accommodation for €10 ($14.30) per person per day.

On this evening, as the gate to Europe is about to open for Serbia's citizens, young men, determined to do whatever it takes to reach the EU, sit tightly packed together on beds and sofas at the Hotel Zimmer. Some have put their fate into the hands of traffickers, to whom they have paid large sums of money, while others intend to try their luck unassisted. Regardless of the method, all are hoping for their lucky break.

Well-Traveled Route

On the second floor, five thin young Kurdish men from Sanliurfa in southeastern Turkey sit crouched closely together over a loaf of bread and a pan of scrambled eggs. Their leader, Mahmud, first came to Germany as an asylum-seeker and then managed restaurants with his brothers in the northern German city of Schwerin. During a trip to Norway, he was involved in a fight and sent to prison, then deported to Turkey.

Mahmud describes the route that leads from Turkey back into EU territory. It begins at the bazaar in the Istanbul neighborhood of Aksaray, where an Albanian trafficker named Naim collects €5,000 per person. The trip continues by air to the Albanian capital Tirana, then by bus to Pristina in Kosovo. From there, another trafficker takes his charges to Rozaj in the mountains of Montenegro, where they travel by car to the unsecured rural border with Serbia and, in 20 minutes, walk across into the neighboring country. A local guide then provides directions to a bus to Belgrade and on to Subotica.

Everything has worked out well so far, says Mahmud. But now, on the 36th day since their journey began, he and the four other Kurds are still stuck on the Hungarian border, where Albanian middlemen had kept them locked up in a run-down shack until Mahmud notified the police.

That was when he and his companions became acquainted with the inside of a Serbian prison. Now that they have been released, their permits to stay in Serbia have expired and the money they had borrowed for the trip from family members in Turkey is beginning to run out.

It is obvious, just by looking at each of the men in the group, that they are anxious about the prospect of having to return home as someone who hasn't made it to the golden West. The youngest man in the room breaks out in tears at the mere thought of it. All five have pieces of paper with contact addresses to use once they have arrived at their destinations. Two are headed for Italy, one for Germany, one for France and one for Poland.

Though none of them says it openly, it is clear that these young Kurds have a plan: They will not leave Subotica without having tried their luck at illegally crossing the border.

Looking the Other Way

On the ground floor of the Hotel Zimmer, Ljuzim and Sami are still in bed, even though it is almost noon. The two Albanians from Kosovo, who have been in Subotica for two days, claim to be looking for work as truck drivers. The more talkative of the two admits that he once worked illegally as an electrician in Italy. He says that when he entered the country in the southern Italian port of Bari, customs officials looked the other way in return for a €1,400 bribe.

But what if there are no jobs in Subotica for truck drivers who don't speak a word of Serbian? Would Italy be an option again? "Mi piacerebbe," the Albanian says quietly. "I'd like that."

In Subotica, it is abundantly clear that the external walls of affluent Fortress Europe could be shifted once again as a result of the new travel rules. Even the gentlest shifts in geopolitical tectonics can tear open deep rifts in southeastern Europe. Meanwhile, Belgrade also submitted its application for EU membership last Tuesday.

Carrot-and-Stick Approach

Kosovo Albanians, who frenetically celebrated their independence from Serbia in 2008, are now trying to register as residents of the ethnic Albanian enclave around Presevo in southern Serbia, hoping that this will entitle them to a Serbian passport and unrestricted travel within the EU. Many others head straight for the Hungarian border to try their luck there. As long as Belgrade refuses to recognize Kosovo's secession, Serb officials cannot stop them from doing so; only Hungarians can deport them.

Until now, the new rules on the elimination of visa requirements have only applied to people residing in Serbia proper. But EU diplomats have traditionally used a carrot-and-stick approach in their relations with the Balkans, which is why Belgrade will probably be forced to pay the price for travel freedoms in the near future -- in the form of tighter controls at its southwestern border.

Most potential illegal immigrants come from Kosovo, across that border. Keeping them out of Serbia will require the construction of a protective barrier. Once such a barrier is up, Serbia will be no more than a step away from recognizing Kosovo's independence. For Kosovo Albanians it would also represent a final hurdle in the bid to achieve the freedom to travel.

Bljerim Rama lacked the patience to wait that long. With his wife, two small children and 14 other Kosovo Albanians, he boarded a boat on the Serbian side of the Tisza River in mid-October, the Hungarian side in full view. The fishing boat capsized, and only Rama and his children survived. Eleven bodies, including that of Rama's wife, were washed up on both sides of the river. Four people remain missing.

Three wooden boats are still tied up at the presumed scene of the tragedy, at a quiet section of the Tisza riverbank surrounded by trees.

The spot, as remote as it seems, is right next to Europe.

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• Part 1: EU Welcomes 'Leper of Europe' Back into the Fold
• Part 2: Hoping for a Lucky Break