Address by Minister Đurić at the UN Security Council Meeting on the Work of UNMIK
Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Serbia Marko Đurić addressed a meeting of the United Nations Security Council in New York today, at which the UN Secretary-General's report on the work of UNMIK for the period from March to September 2026 was considered.
The full text of Minister Đurić's address follows:
Madam President,
Distinguished Members of the Security Council,
Special Representative of the Secretary-General, Mr. Due,
On 16 September, in a courtroom in The Hague, four men who once wielded immense political and military power were found guilty of war crimes at first instance. Their names are well known to this Council: Hashim Thaçi, Kadri Veseli, Rexhep Selimi and Jakup Krasniqi.
The judges found them responsible for crimes including arbitrary deprivation of liberty, torture, cruel treatment and murder. The judgment concerns, among other crimes, the killing of ninety-six people. Ninety-six human lives. Ninety-six stories cut short. And families who have borne the burden of those losses for more than a quarter of a century.
But justice needed to go a step further. The charges of crimes against humanity did not result in convictions, while many, many other crimes have remained unpunished — from the murder of Serbian harvesters in Staro Gracko to the killings at Lake Radonjić, as well as the persecution and mass exodus of Serbs and other non-Albanians. Justice cannot be considered to have been served while so many victims are still waiting for answers.
Wars and armed conflicts are never black and white. They are complex, multifaceted tragedies in which suffering cannot be reduced to a single narrative of victims and perpetrators. We must have the courage to confront the whole truth: both Serbs and Albanians were victims. They were persecuted, abducted, murdered and driven from their homes in Kosovo and Metohija. Serbs, as Orthodox Christians, also watched their churches, monasteries and holy sites being attacked and destroyed. Their suffering cannot be erased from history simply because it does not fit someone else's convenient political narrative.
For the families of the victims, 16 September was not just another date in judicial proceedings. It was a moment when their suffering could no longer be ignored.
And what happened next?
Instead of calls for reflection, some of the most prominent political figures in Pristina and Tirana responded by attacking the judgment and glorifying those convicted. Albin Kurti described the judgments as "an unacceptable injustice". Albanian President Bajram Begaj declared that nothing could tarnish the KLA and repeated the slogan "Freedom Has a Name".
But, Madam President, the victims had names too.
They were not a footnote in someone else's national narrative. They were not an inconvenience to be dismissed so that responsibility could be evaded. They were human beings — Serbs, Albanians and others — whose rights and lives mattered.
Let me state this clearly and unequivocally. The judgment establishes individual responsibility. It does not declare the Albanian people collectively guilty. Albanian families, too, suffered from crimes committed by various actors, including the so-called KLA. But there is a fundamental difference between defending the right to a fair trial and telling an entire society that a court has no right to find its supposed heroes guilty.
If we accept that logic, we are saying that justice applies only to the powerless.
And then came another development. Several weeks after the judgments were handed down, the parliament in Pristina adopted amendments seeking to restrict the mandate of the Kosovo Specialist Chambers. The European Union itself stated that those amendments were contrary to Pristina's international obligations and called for respect for the court's independence and the protection of witnesses.
Consider the message this sends. First, a court delivers its judgment. Then political leaders condemn its findings. And then politicians attempt to change the rules under which that court operates.
Under such circumstances, how can a witness who has put their family's safety at risk by testifying have faith in justice?
Responsibility now rests with those who established and supported this institution. They must ensure that crimes committed against Serbs and other victims are not swept under the carpet once again, that witnesses are protected and that political interference from Pristina does not obstruct the course of justice.
Serbia's position remains clear: justice for victims must never be sacrificed to political interests. We seek justice for every victim, Serb and Albanian alike. Not a Serbian version of justice. Not an Albanian version of justice. Justice that is equal for all.
The judgments sparked mass protests by supporters of the former KLA leadership, from Pristina and The Hague to New York and cities across Europe. Albanian flags were raised in defence of people convicted of serious war crimes. Yet, as Presiding Judge Charles Smith reminded the world, quoting historian Howard Zinn: "There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people." No national flag, including the Albanian flag, with all due respect, can place war crimes beyond accountability.
Distinguished Members of the Council,
I begin here because the question raised by this judgment is the same question that runs through the Secretary-General's report before us today: when the law and political expediency come into conflict, which will prevail?
I thank Secretary-General António Guterres, Special Representative Peter Due and the entire UNMIK team for their work. UNMIK remains indispensable precisely because its personnel can listen to people whose experiences are all too often reduced to a few cautious lines in international reports.
The report describes the situation in northern Kosovo and Metohija as calm but fragile. I ask you to consider both words carefully. A street may be calm because a family has decided it is safer to stay indoors. A town may appear quiet because its young people have left. A community can slowly disappear without a single dramatic event attracting the world's attention.
The absence of conflict is not the same as the presence of security.
Imagine an ordinary morning for a Serbian family in Kosovo and Metohija. A parent is getting a child ready for school. An elderly family member needs medication. Someone needs to collect a pension. None of this should require diplomatic negotiations. Yet when schools and healthcare facilities are under threat, when institutions are closed, when the payment of salaries or the provision of social services is obstructed, everyday life becomes an instrument of political pressure.
And these pressures are not imagined. The report documents closures and disruptions affecting the institutions on which Serbs depend. It records unresolved issues concerning the return of Serbian judges, prosecutors and judicial staff. The report documents the demolition of houses and properties owned by Serbs in the vicinity of Lake Gazivode, as well as serious allegations of police abuse. Imagine, in the twenty-first century, the homes of an entire community being demolished while their owners are still seeking to defend their rights through the courts. For these Serbian families, the message is devastating: their homes, their property and their future can be taken from them at any moment.
We are gathered here in New York, in the United States of America, a country that this year marks the 250th anniversary of its Declaration of Independence — a historic milestone not only for America but also for the development of liberty and human rights throughout the world. The protection of private property is deeply rooted in the American constitutional tradition. It is one of the pillars of our civilisation. Yet, in that same year, in the heart of Europe, Serbian families in Kosovo and Metohija have watched their family homes and property being demolished while their legal claims remain unresolved. In the twenty-first century, we are witnessing scenes that should belong to the distant past. What message does this send to these families? That the right to a home, the right to private property and the protection of the law somehow depend on whether you are a Serb?
And consider a Serbian citizen who enters a courtroom but no longer believes that the system understands their language, their rights or their community. That is why the reintegration of Serbian judges, prosecutors and judicial staff is not a technical detail. It is part of restoring the trust without which justice cannot function.
Following the commemoration of Vidovdan at Gazimestan, thirty-seven people were arrested, including one minor. Allow me to remind you that Vidovdan is one of the holiest days for Orthodox Serbs and symbolises centuries of faith, sacrifice and the enduring spiritual bond of the Serbian people with Kosovo and Metohija. UNMIK human rights personnel observed bruises and other injuries on several detainees who reported being mistreated during transport and while in detention.
Viewed in isolation, each of these incidents might fall within the remit of a different institution, a different case, with a different explanation. Taken together, they tell the story of a community left uncertain whether it has a future at all.
The message displaced Serbs hear is: do not return. The message to those who remain is: learn to live without the institutions you depend on. And those who seek protection through agreements are told: even a signed commitment may remain unfulfilled for years.
These are the messages conveyed by everyday reality. They are unacceptable in a Europe that so often, and rightly, speaks of human rights.
Even the EU has documented excessive use of police force and misconduct in northern Kosovo and Metohija. For Serbs, northern Kosovo has become a police protectorate, where intimidation and violence against civilians have become part of everyday life.
Madam President,
There is one figure in the report that should give us all pause.
During the reporting period, forty-seven members of non-majority communities returned voluntarily. Not one of them was a Serb.
Not a single one.
We can discuss migration statistics and return programmes, but behind that figure lies an unanswered human question: why does someone who longs to return to the place of their childhood still believe it is safer to stay away?
Returning home is not simply a matter of receiving the keys to a repaired house. It means knowing that you will be able to keep your land, that your children can go to school, that you can see a doctor, that your church and the graves of your ancestors will be respected, and that, if something goes wrong, the law will protect you.
That is precisely why threats to Serbian Orthodox religious and cultural heritage cannot be dismissed as minor incidents. A monastery is not merely stone, and a cemetery is not merely a piece of land. Gračanica, Visoki Dečani and the Patriarchate of Peć embody centuries of faith, memory and belonging. They are living places of worship. They need security, not assurances offered only after the damage has been done.
Any changes to the security arrangements at Visoki Dečani and on the main bridge over the Ibar River must be based on credible security assessments and meaningful consultations. KFOR's role remains indispensable. Decisions concerning people's security cannot be imposed without their trust.
The families of missing persons deserve the same respect. There are still parents and children, Serbs and Albanians alike, who cannot visit a grave because they do not know where their loved ones rest. Every credible lead must be investigated, including the eight sites identified through the Working Group on Missing Persons where the remains of Serbian victims, as well as victims from other non-majority communities, may be found.
Every family's right to the truth must not depend on day-to-day politics.
Distinguished Members of the Council,
Thirteen years have passed since the agreement on the Community of Serb-Majority Municipalities was reached in 2013. Its principles were further agreed upon in 2015. Yet the Community has still not been established.
Allow me to explain what thirteen years means to a family.
Thirteen years is enough time for a baby to grow into a teenager. Enough time for young people to complete their education and decide whether to build their lives in their hometown or elsewhere. Enough time for parents to grow weary of explaining to their children why the future is always being postponed.
I repeat: an agreement reached with the European Union as an active participant, intended to provide the Serbian community with meaningful institutional guarantees, has remained unimplemented for thirteen years.
Imagine the message that sends to someone considering whether to remain in Kosovo and Metohija. If a promise negotiated and signed in the presence of international representatives can be ignored for thirteen years, what can that person rely on tomorrow?
The Community is not a reward for Belgrade. It is not an optional concession to be offered whenever Pristina deems the political moment convenient. It is an obligation undertaken within the Dialogue. Its implementation, in accordance with the agreed framework, is essential to restoring trust.
And trust cannot be demanded of one side while the other is absolved of its obligations.
Serbia is not abandoning the dialogue. We know that the region's future cannot be built through confrontation. We want Serbs and Albanians to live safely side by side, to work, study, trade and resolve their differences peacefully. But dialogue must not become a substitute for implementing what has been agreed. It must create conditions that people can genuinely experience in their everyday lives.
That is why the Serbian state will continue to provide healthcare, education, pensions, salaries and assistance to its people in Kosovo and Metohija. These are not instruments of confrontation. They are services that help families remain in their homes.
And it is precisely here that our national policy must remain clear. The policy of preserving peace while firmly supporting the Serbian people — a policy pursued for years by President Aleksandar Vučić and one that I support — rests on a simple conviction: protecting our people requires perseverance, restraint and a state that does not abandon them.
Restraint is not a sign of weakness when the alternative is to expose ordinary families to danger. Nor is there any contradiction between defending Serbia's legitimate interests and insisting that peace is our foremost responsibility.
Distinguished Members of the Council,
On Sunday, 25 October, millions of Serbian citizens will go to the polls to exercise one of their fundamental democratic rights. However, for Serbs living in Kosovo and Metohija, even the act of voting has once again become an obstacle. Kurti has refused to enable Serbs to vote in their own communities, despite the fact that the OSCE successfully facilitated such voting in the past without prejudicing differing positions on status.
Serbia has provided alternative voting arrangements in central Serbia. But why should elderly citizens, families and persons with disabilities be forced to travel far from their homes simply to exercise their democratic rights? Democracy cannot be a privilege dependent on geography or political convenience.
Madam President,
Resolution 1244 remains in force. It is not a footnote from another era. It is a binding decision of this Council and forms part of the United Nations framework for the international presence in Kosovo and Metohija.
If this Council expects its decisions to be respected elsewhere in the world, it cannot treat its own resolution as optional when it comes to Serbia. International law must be more than a phrase we invoke only when it suits our political position.
We support UNMIK's full engagement. We also insist that its reports remain sufficiently detailed — not only to document individual incidents but also to convey their cumulative impact on people's lives. Neutrality must never mean avoiding the question of accountability.
Distinguished Members of the Council,
Allow me to conclude where I began: with the families who listened to the judgment being delivered in The Hague on 16 September.
A judgment cannot bring a murdered father back to his children. It cannot restore the years spent waiting or erase the fear endured by those who testified. But it can send an important message to those who are alive: that no one is above the law and that no victim may be forgotten simply because the truth is politically inconvenient.
Today, this Council must decide whether it will be guided by these principles in its response to the situation in Kosovo and Metohija.
For Serbia, the answer is clear.
We choose peace, but peace must not require silence in the face of injustice. We choose dialogue, but dialogue cannot mean waiting indefinitely for agreements to be honoured.
We choose reconciliation, but reconciliation cannot be built by denying victims their dignity.
And we will continue, peacefully, firmly and resolutely, to defend the rights and future of the Serbian people in Kosovo and Metohija, while advocating for the security and dignity of every other community.
The victims have waited long enough to be heard. Those living today should not have to wait for another generation to feel protected. Serbs and Albanians deserve a future founded on respect, cooperation and friendship — let us stand up for such a future!
That is the responsibility before this Council and before us all.
Thank you.
New York,
20 October 2026
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