The deep information divide between Kosovo’s Albanian and Serb communities.

Every year, as the school year ends, high school graduates from Serb-majority schools in North Mitrovica take part in a traditional parade to celebrate their graduation. They usually march through the town square, which is largely inhabited by Kosovo Serbs.

Unlike in previous years, when few Kosovo Albanians came to this square, the opening of Albanian-owned businesses in the area and a stronger presence of the Kosovo Police (KP) have drawn more Albanians across the Ibër River to have coffee. In this context, the parade took a different turn on May 23 last year. As the graduates made their way through the city, some of them chanted, “Kosovo is the heart of Serbia.”

An exchange of gestures between the graduates and an Albanian man sitting at a nearby café further escalated tensions.

According to media reports, the Albanian man made the double-headed eagle gesture towards the graduates, a symbol of Albanian national identity. Some of the graduates responded by raising their middle fingers or holding up three fingers, a gesture associated with Serbian nationalism, as Serbian political leaders, as well as military and paramilitary forces, widely adopted the three-finger salute at nationalist rallies and during the wars in Bosnia, Croatia and Kosovo in the 1990s.

The Kosovo Police intervened and pulled one of the graduates away from the crowd, grabbing him by the neck. The incident was criticized as excessive use of force by the police. In the days that followed, the incident became the focus of two very different narratives in the media in Kosovo and Serbia.

A video of the incident circulated widely, showing a red mark on the graduate’s neck. He later said that he had made the mark himself with a marker during the celebrations.

Despite this, the mark became the focus of media coverage, particularly in Serbian-language pro-government media and on Telegram channels. Headlines claimed that the Kosovo Police had “beaten” or “left the graduate bleeding,” portraying the incident as an ethnically motivated attack on a Serb minor. 

These reports largely ignored, or in some cases distorted, the graduate’s own account that he had made the mark with a marker during the celebrations.

By selectively presenting facts, and in some cases distorting them, Serbian government officials, pro-government media and Telegram channels further reinforced a narrative of violence and institutional repression against Kosovo Serbs.

Albanian-language media, meanwhile, largely adopted the account given by Kosovo institutions. Their reports centered on statements from the Ministry of Internal Affairs (MIA) and by the then-acting minister Xhelal Sveçla, who said the police had acted professionally to prevent the situation from escalating after some graduates chanted nationalist slogans and displayed provocative symbols.

Most of these outlets did not seek adequate accounts from witnesses, participants, human rights organizations or other independent sources. They also gave limited attention to issues such as the use of force by police, the involvement of a minor and the sensitivity surrounding ethnic symbols.

Some Albanian-language media dismissed the incident as staged or as part of a propaganda effort by the Serbian state to discredit Kosovo’s institutions in the north. They placed the incident within a broader narrative about Serbia’s use of young people for political purposes and its alleged efforts to destabilize northern Kosovo.

These two competing narratives shaped coverage of the incident in both Kosovo and Serbia. They also underpin an analysis published last year by the Kosovo Center for Security Studies (KCSS), which examines how disinformation can fuel ethno-political radicalization in Kosovo.

Within these competing narratives, neither media sphere did enough to question its own assumptions. Serbian-language audiences saw the incident as evidence of the community’s vulnerability and institutional violence, while Albanian-language audiences saw it as a provocation intended to portray Kosovo as a repressive state.

Sanja Sovrlić, a Kosovo journalist who works for N1, a CNN-affiliated television channel based in Belgrade, regarded as an independent and critical outlet in Serbia, says that a dominant narrative in Albanian-language media portrays Kosovo Serbs as instruments of the Belgrade government. According to Sovrlić, coverage tends to focus primarily on criminal structures or violations of the law.

“This often means that the real problems on the ground are overlooked,” Sovrlić said. 

Albanian-language media, meanwhile, largely follow Kosovo’s institutional narrative, a pattern also identified in the KCSS report.

As with the coverage of the graduate’s incident, Albanian-language media have rarely looked beyond official statements when reporting on measures taken by the Kosovo government in recent years, such as the closure of Serbian parallel structures and the growing number of new Albanian-owned businesses in the north. These measures are often covered through what government representatives say and communicate, with little reporting beyond their accounts.

According to Festim Rizanaj, a researcher at the fact-checking platform Hibrid.info, the starkly different narratives through which Kosovo’s Albanian and Serb communities receive information largely stem from the lack of a shared factual basis.

“The main difference lies in the narrative context. The same event can be described in very different terms. One side may present it as a ‘provocation’ or an ‘attack on Serbs’, while the other may frame it as an ‘institutional response’ or an ‘attempt to restore order’,” he said.

He says this also increases the risk of generalization.

“An action by an individual, politician, group or institution is attributed to an entire community. Or a particular incident in Serb-majority areas is interpreted as an act by ‘Albanians’ without knowing who is responsible. Meanwhile, a statement or action by a Serbian politician may be attributed to the entire Serb community,” Rizanaj said. “In this way, individual or institutional responsibility is shifted onto an entire ethnic group, creating the perception that ‘they’ are collectively a threat to ‘us’. This undermines trust between communities, as well as trust in institutions.”

According to Rizanaj, this can create a self-reinforcing cycle of mistrust: one community believes that the other hates them or intends to harm them, so every new incident is interpreted as confirmation of that belief. As a result, this affects not only how a particular event is perceived but also reinforces a collective image of the other community.

Darko Dimitrijević, editor-in-chief of Radio Goraždevac, a local Serbian-language outlet, says the consequences of the lack of common reference points are far-reaching. In his view, without a shared understanding of the facts and with few trusted media outlets and public figures, both communities remain anchored in incompatible realities. 

“As a result, facts are often pushed aside in favor of political agendas that seek to keep populations divided and easily manipulated through nationalist fervor. Because political elites have created a hostile public sphere, empathy remains rare. Very few Albanians or Serbs are willing to speak publicly about the suffering, losses and victims of the other side without first framing them in ethnic terms,” he said. “In this environment, independent media and public figures who are committed to objective and ethical reporting are often vilified, labeled as traitors or accused of working for the other side, further discouraging efforts to bridge the divide between competing narratives.”

But last year’s incident in North Mitrovica goes beyond traditional media. Hate-filled and divisive narratives continue to circulate on closed communication platforms, where they are often shared and amplified even more intensely. Telegram is one of the main such platforms.

Amplifying narratives through Telegram

Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, organized Russian disinformation has expanded to include narratives aimed at fueling ethnic conflict in Kosovo, a phenomenon that has been the subject of extensive research in Kosovo and the region. Telegram communication channels have emerged as one of the spaces where this phenomenon has become particularly systematic, with the number of Kosovo-focused channels increasing after 2022 and their audiences growing significantly between 2021 and 2024. In an environment with limited moderation and often ineffective oversight mechanisms, dozens of channels have spread pro-Russian and Serbian nationalist narratives, ranging from denying Kosovo’s statehood to calls for military intervention, placing Kosovo at the center of content designed to mobilize their audiences.

On channels such as BUNT, Bunker, Koridor and Srpska Sparta Info, inaccurate information, conspiracy theories and hate speech circulate, attracting tens of thousands of members from across the Balkans. These channels present themselves as “real” and “uncensored” alternative sources, reinforcing the perception that information from professional media or Kosovo institutions is automatically manipulated. In their content, Kosovo is portrayed as a sacred Serbian land, Kosovo Serbs as a people under constant persecution, and Kosovo institutions as illegitimate or repressive.

The aim of these narratives is to provoke an emotional response and foster ideological identification. Developments in Serb-majority municipalities — whether an administrative decision, protest or incident — are often presented without sufficient context and linked together as evidence of a continuing and systematic pattern of injustice against Kosovo Serbs. The propagandistic nature of this content does not necessarily lie in fabricating an injustice from start to finish, but in the way a real event is selected, taken out of context and instrumentalized, as in the case of the graduate, who was subjected to excessive force by the police, even though it was later established that the red mark on his neck was not blood.

The channels also operate as an interconnected network, with one channel recycling and amplifying content from another, creating a parallel source of information outside traditional media. Their influence, however, extends beyond the online space. People use these channels to call for protests, blockades and other forms of mobilization, blurring the line between digital propaganda and action on the ground.

Rizanaj, whose work includes monitoring Telegram channels, says the platform is playing an increasingly important role in spreading conspiracy narratives, speculation and inflammatory content.

“The constant stream of alarming and unverified content can create a sense of insecurity and threat within the community, prompting quick and not always measured reactions. Monitoring and debunking this content is difficult because some of it cannot be verified or fact-checked,” he said, referring to the sheer volume of such content circulating on these channels.

Although Telegram channels have large audiences, there is no data showing how many Kosovo Serbs follow them, how many are active members, or what impact this content has on the community’s attitudes and sense of security. The same lack of data applies to the widespread claim that Kosovo Serbs get most of their information from pro-government Serbian media.

Serbian media undoubtedly have a significant influence, but they do not fully capture how the Serb community gets its information. Interviews and available research show that local Serbian-language media in Kosovo also play an important role, particularly by covering everyday developments in communities and local events.

A 2025 survey by the non-governmental organization AKTIV, conducted among 520 members of Kosovo’s Serb community and published in 2026, shows that 35% of respondents get most of their information from social media. Online news portals and traditional media, such as television and radio, follow.

In northern Kosovo, people turn to social media even more: nearly 40% of respondents identified it as their main source of information, compared with around 30% in Serb-majority municipalities south of the Ibër River. The survey covers social media in general, including Facebook and X, but does not break down usage by specific platforms or Telegram channels.

According to the report, Serbian-language media in Kosovo enjoys the highest level of trust among the media sources included in the survey. However, respondents expressed widespread distrust of national media based in Belgrade at 57% and of independent media based in Belgrade at 52%. Distrust was even stronger toward Albanian-language media in Kosovo: 80% of respondents expressed clear distrust, while none reported complete trust.

According to Sovrlić, the analysis shows that although members of the Serb community follow all available media, they tend to trust local outlets more because they can provide a clearer picture of what is happening in their communities.

“During a crisis or a major local event, local journalists understand the context better and have more information, which allows them to give people a broader picture than media outlets in Belgrade can,” she said. “People experience many things through their everyday lives and activities, so they already have a good sense of what is happening without needing media outlets in Belgrade to tell them.”

Dimitrijević, himself the editor-in-chief of a local outlet, says independent Serbian-language media in Kosovo generally maintain high professional and ethical standards. They report on the Albanian community fairly and responsibly, while also providing nuanced local context.

But these outlets operate with limited resources and face ongoing challenges in sustaining their work financially, he explained.

“Without sufficient long-term support, there is a real risk that they will eventually be overtaken by well-funded, state-aligned media platforms and their aggressive propaganda narratives,” he said.

Two separate information ecosystems

Albanian-language media rarely cover the experiences and everyday lives of members of the Serb community unless a crisis, incident or political development puts them in the spotlight. Incidents such as the one involving Serb high school graduates in 2025 are among the few occasions when the Serb community enters the Albanian-language media space. In this coverage, Albanian audiences often encounter “the other” as a group of citizens portrayed as instruments of Belgrade, provocative or violent. Outside such cases, the media rarely cover their everyday lives, concerns and perspectives. 

Similarly, when Serbian pro-government media in Serbia report on Kosovo, Albanian citizens and Kosovo institutions are portrayed to Serbian audiences as “the other” — as actors seeking to drive Serbs out of Kosovo or as perpetrators of violence and repression against them.

Although the two communities live alongside each other, the information spaces serving them have little interaction with one another. Instead, each community lives in its own information bubble, shaped by political narratives, social networks and platforms, as well as politicized or pro-government media.

As a result, the communities are often treated as homogeneous groups, as if everyone shares the same views and interests. Yet, as Sovrlić points out, even during wartime, war is not the only reality.

“People help each other,” she said. “But that is part of how journalism works: bad news is news, while something positive is less likely to make the headlines. That applies to many issues, and certainly to this one.”

When these relationships and experiences are left out of the coverage, the media can reinforce the perception that hostility is the defining relationship between the two communities.

“People who get their information only from media that fuel hostility may come to believe that as soon as they enter an area where members of the other community live, they will be attacked, beaten or even killed,” said Sovrlić.

Both Sovrlić and Rizanaj say that Kosovo’s Albanian and Serb communities live in two different information ecosystems, with very few points of contact.

“The two ecosystems mainly intersect on social media, or when an event is so significant that it crosses into both information spaces. This creates a situation where we do not simply have two different languages of information, but often two different versions of the same event and of reality in Kosovo,” said Rizanaj.

Dimitrijević explained that this environment is further compounded by the lack of bilingual reporting. As a result, sources of information differ significantly. Most people consume news in their native language, through media that reflect the respective political narratives and, according to him, growing nationalism on both sides.

“The points of common ground are extremely limited and appear mainly through a small number of independent media outlets that focus on bilingual reporting, civil society initiatives, or joint reporting on everyday and universal issues such as the economy, healthcare and the environment,” he said.

Albanian-language media have reported on coexistence and tolerance between the two communities over the years, but such coverage has been largely sporadic and has failed to make the other community a consistent presence in each community’s information space.

In 2026, for example, K2.0 published a series of articles in which Serbian and Albanian journalists collaborated to report on shared concerns in their communities that extend beyond politics. They reported on hate speech, environmental degradation and rivers, as well as the menstrual tax. Eight journalists, four Albanian and four Serbian, went into the field to report on problems that transcend the political tensions between Kosovo and Serbia. They reported on issues that directly affect the lives of both communities, from the foul smell of the Kishnica River, which forces Albanian and Serb families to keep their windows closed, to older residents from both communities recalling the days when they swam and fished together in the river as children.

Dimitrijević, who co-authored an article on environmental degradation caused by illegal dumpsites in Peja, says sensationalist reporting — whether by pro-government media in Belgrade about the Albanian community or by Albanian-language media in Kosovo about the Serb community — leaves little room for the shared human realities of everyday life. Social and economic hardships, environmental concerns and real examples of neighbors living together are often pushed aside in favor of alarming headlines and coverage centered on threats.

“What is consistently missing from the dominant narrative, especially in sensationalist reporting, is the human dimension: everyday life, shared social and economic hardships, and real examples of interethnic cooperation on the ground. All of these are repeatedly pushed aside in favor of high-level political conflict,” he said.

According to Sovrlić, finding common ground between the information spaces of these communities is simple: “The media need to do their job professionally.”

“Even when reporting on crises, they need to do so professionally. Even if they do not have time to produce human-interest stories because they are busy with the daily news, there is still no excuse for unprofessional reporting,” she said.

She gives the example of Prishtina-based media outlets that travel to Mitrovica, Leposavić or Zubin Potok to cover protests. If they portray the area simply as a place filled with bad people and criminals, she explained, the majority Albanian audience may begin to believe that everyone in northern Kosovo is a criminal or a bad person. Over time, that perception can become dominant.

For her, the same applies to the media in Belgrade. When Albanian voices are absent, stories present only one side and use derogatory terms toward Albanians, fueling hostility and antagonism toward them.

“The recipe is simple: the media just need to do their job. And we know what that job is,” she concluded.

Feature image: Dina Hajrullahu / Kosovo 2.0

Gentiana Paçarizi is a journalist and holds a master’s degree in Journalism and Public Relations from the University of Prishtina “Hasan Prishtina.” She served as Managing Editor at Kosovo 2.0 from 2022 to 2026.

The author of this article is a co-author of the report “How Disinformation Fuels Ethno-Political Radicalization in Kosovo,” published by the Kosovo Center for Security Studies (KCSS). This article was originally published by Kosovo 2.0, in collaboration with Pro Peace.