
For more than three decades, the European Union has perfected one political skill above all others: the ability to promise the Western Balkans everything while delivering almost nothing. It is a masterclass in strategic ambiguity, wrapped in bureaucratic politeness, executed with a straight face. And perhaps nowhere else has the EU’s credibility suffered so much as in its treatment of the region that was once told clearly, loudly and repeatedly: you belong in Europe.
But instead of opening its doors, the EU has spent decades rearranging the hallway furniture.
Let’s start from the beginning — or, rather, the first downgrade. When the Western Balkans expected the same path to accession that earlier enlargement waves enjoyed, the EU instead presented the Stabilisation and Association Agreements: not the roadmap others had, but a lighter, vaguer, more conditional version of European integration. It was the political equivalent of saying, “You can sit with us… but not at the real table.”
And just when the region thought the rules were at least clear, Brussels rewrote them again. The EU unveiled a new enlargement methodology, introducing rule-of-law chapters to be opened at the very start and kept open until the very end — a system first applied to Montenegro. And just as Montenegro adjusted to this upgraded set of hoops to jump through, the EU revised the methodology again, tightening and complicating it even further. New structure, new clusters — because nothing says “you’re welcome here” like repeatedly changing the entrance exam while the candidate is already sitting in the hallway.
Then came the declaration that marked an era of cold winds of enlargement: Jean-Claude Juncker’s famous “no enlargement during my mandate.” And this wasn’t said at a moment of stagnation. No — it came barely two years after Montenegro opened accession talks, effectively sentencing the most advanced candidate to the longest negotiations in the history of EU enlargement. Imagine running a marathon only to be told, halfway in, that the finish line will be moved indefinitely because the organizer is tired.
Then there was the EU’s favorite Balkan strategy (still in place): feed the autocrats. All in the name of “stability,” of course. For years, Brussels tolerated leaders who hollowed out institutions, threatened civil liberties, and eroded the very values that define the Union. All because it preferred predictable strongmen to unpredictable transitions. Stability was the currency — democracy the collateral damage.
And every time the region complained about the pace of integration, the EU gave the same excuse: “We must reform before we enlarge.” A poetic line, except the EU has been “reforming” since Maastricht in 1992.
Then there was the grand gesture of offering 2025 as a possible accession year for Montenegro and Serbia. Remember that? A year held up like a lighthouse — only for the EU to pretend it never said it. When the moment of real scrutiny came, the lighthouse quietly went dark.
As if that weren’t enough, Brussels launched the Berlin Process, wrapped it in elegant language, and left the Western Balkans wondering for years whether this was a steppingstone to membership or a consolation prize. Spoiler alert: it felt a lot like the latter.
Then came the name change saga. North Macedonia did the unthinkable — it changed its constitutional name in a historic compromise to unlock negotiations. What did the EU do? Turned around, closed its eyes, and let bilateral disputes block the process all over again. If loyalty were measured in diplomatic terms, this was betrayal written in capital letters.
Add to that the EU’s puzzling decision to treat countries that align with the Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP) the same as those who don’t. The message to the Western Balkans? “Your loyalty doesn’t matter. Commitment doesn’t matter. Results don’t matter.”
The cherry on top was the Growth Plan after the war in Ukraine started — a document so vague in political content that one wondered whether anyone in Brussels remembered 2022 as the moment when integrating the Western Balkans (even without voting or any other rights) would have been strategically brilliant. Instead, the EU produced a plan with numbers but without vision.
And if anyone needed further proof of confusion, the Enlargement Commissioner recently delivered it in one breath: Montenegro is “on track to close all negotiation chapters by the end of 2026,” she said — only to add that the EU is considering a model of integration with a “probation period” and no voting rights, without further explanation to whom it might be applied. So, by this logic, a country that meets every requirement of full membership would… not be a full member. Brussels is inventing new levels of paradox.
Let’s be honest: none of these steps would necessarily have been fatal had they been accompanied by concrete action, clear timelines, and real political will. Instead, we got disorientation, stagnation, and a region trapped in a waiting room with no clock on the wall.
Years were lost. No — decades. Twenty-two years since the Thessaloniki promise, and the Western Balkans is still orbiting the EU like a satellite nobody wants to land.
And that brings us to today. The solution is not another “model,” another “framework,” another “pre-accession space,” another “probation membership” or whatever creative term Brussels invents next. Especially not reforms that will take unknown years and require EU treaty changes nobody wants to touch. Every new model is just a new tool for politicization and vetoes.
There is only one credible path: the accession treaty. If the EU truly wants a success story — a real, tangible, European success story — it already has one staring it directly in the face. Start with Montenegro: the frontrunner, the most advanced, the country that has carried the heaviest load and delivered the most. Conclude its accession, anchor it with any safeguard clauses you wish, and then apply the same clear, merit-based sequence to every other country in line. That is how credibility is restored, momentum is rebuilt, and Europe proves that its word still means something.
Enough half-memberships. Enough waiting rooms. Enough being Europe’s periphery — twice. If the EU wants strategic autonomy, political credibility, and moral consistency, it cannot afford to betray the Western Balkans — again.