Protests Towards Turkish Migration In Montenegro – Revolt Towards Neo-Ottomanism – The Balkan
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In late October 2025, a violent altercation in Podgorica’s Zabjelo neighborhood ignited a firestorm of public outrage across Montenegro, exposing deep-seated anxieties over rapid Turkish migration. On the night of October 25, a 25-year-old local resident, identified only as M.J., was brutally stabbed—suffering seven wounds—during a verbal dispute outside a bar in the working-class district. Police investigations quickly pointed to involvement by three Azerbaijani nationals and one Turkish citizen, leading to the arrest of two suspects and the detention of 45 other Turkish and Azerbaijani individuals for questioning on residency status and potential links to the violence. Eight were slated for deportation, and seven fined for minor infractions, but the damage was already done.
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Even before the Zabjelo incident, Turkish and other migrants (particularly Azerbaijanis and Afghans) had been repeatedly involved in public-order disturbances, traffic violations, violent incidents, and organized crime activities across the country. Citizens had long complained that the police systematically downplayed or covered up these cases to avoid diplomatic tensions and to protect the lucrative golden-visa and investment schemes. The anger had been simmering for months—indeed years—on social networks, where videos, eyewitness accounts, and complaints about migrant-related crime were shared daily, often met with censorship or dismissal by authorities and mainstream media. The stabbing in Zabjelo was merely the spark that turned long-suppressed frustration into open revolt.
By the following evening, hundreds of revolted citizens gathered in Zabjelo, chanting “Turks, get out!” as flares lit the night sky. These were ordinary people who for years have felt increasingly threatened by the unchecked influx of migrants—mostly Turks, Azerbaijanis, and Afghans—amid rising irregular crossings and mounting pressure on housing, jobs, and public safety. The crowd, swollen by local residents and football supporters, targeted symbols of Turkish presence: vehicles with Turkish plates were vandalized, a Turkish-owned bar on Ivan Crnojević Boulevard was ransacked and set ablaze, and three Turkish citizens were forced to barricade themselves in a nearby casino for safety before police intervention. The unrest spread to Podgorica’s government building, where demonstrators demanded an immediate end to the visa-free regime and waved placards reading “Introduce a Visa Regime.” In a swift response, Prime Minister Milojko Spajić announced the temporary suspension of Montenegro’s visa-free regime for Turkish citizens, effective October 27, framing it as a measure to “preserve public order and the safety of all citizens” while reviewing immigration controls.
These protests, which lingered into early November with smaller rallies and online campaigns, were not mere reactions to a street brawl. They were the culmination of a growing, visceral fear among Montenegrin citizens of neo-Ottomanism—a dread that Turkey is deliberately re-conquering the Balkans through demographic settlement and cultural subversion. Official statistics claim that, as of September 2025, over 13,300 Turkish citizens held temporary work or residence permits—far outpacing the native Turkish minority of just 1,816 (0.29% of the population)—drawn by Montenegro’s “golden visa” schemes offering citizenship for investments as low as €250,000 in real estate or bonds. Yet these official numbers cannot be trusted: the state administration is riddled with corruption, fictive companies are routinely registered to secure residency permits, and immigration laws are applied inconsistently. Numerous reports and independent estimates indicate that the real number of Turks living in Montenegro is significantly higher, with many entering under the radar or maintaining multiple residences.
Turks are systematically buying large amounts of real estate—apartments, houses, and entire coastal developments—with the explicit goal of permanent settlement, transforming entire neighborhoods and driving up property prices beyond the reach of ordinary citizens. This is widely perceived not as benign investment, but as a calculated land grab that paves the way for a new Ottoman foothold on European soil.
At the heart of Montenegro’s turmoil lies Turkey’s neo-Ottoman foreign policy, aggressively pursued under President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan to resurrect Ankara’s historical dominion over former Ottoman lands. Neo-Ottomanism fuses irredentist nostalgia with pan-Islamist ambition, envisioning Turkey as the natural leader of a revived Islamic sphere stretching from the Balkans to Central Asia. In the Balkans, Turkish state agencies (TIKA and Diyanet) pour billions into mosques, madrasas, and cultural centers, while Erdoğan openly declares that “the Balkans are in our hearts, and our hearts are in the Balkans.” Migration is the sharp edge of this strategy: economic migrants and golden-visa holders serve as the vanguard of a deliberate re-Islamization campaign that seeks to shift the region’s identity away from its Christian and secular European heritage.
Montenegrin citizens live in fear of this neo-Ottoman project. They see historical parallels—five centuries of Ottoman occupation still etched in collective memory—and dread a “peaceful conquest” through demographics, real estate, and political influence that would once again place their small nation under Turkish sway.
Montenegro, with only 633,000 inhabitants and a fragile multi-confessional balance, is uniquely vulnerable. Native Muslims (mostly Bosniaks and Albanians) have long lived in harmony with the Orthodox and Catholic majority, practicing a moderate, Balkan form of Islam. An influx of tens of thousands of conservative Turks risks radicalizing local communities, introducing rigid Sunni doctrines, gender segregation, and loyalty to Ankara rather than Podgorica. The country could rapidly fracture along religious lines, with Turkish-backed political blocs dictating policy in a parliament where a few thousand votes can tip the balance.
From inheriting Christian values—rooted in medieval monasteries, Enlightenment ideals, and post-Yugoslav reconciliation—Montenegro would drift toward pro-Islamic priorities: sharia-influenced laws, erosion of women’s and minority rights, and foreign-policy subservience to Erdoğan’s agenda. A once-stable European candidate state could be transformed into a volatile, polarized outpost—an entry point for the further spread of Ottoman and Islamic influence across the Balkans and into the heart of Europe.
The revolted Montenegrin citizens who took to the streets of Zabjelo were the desperate voice of a people who feel their homeland slipping away. Their fear of neo-Ottomanism is not paranoia—it is the rational reaction of a small nation watching a centuries-old empire return in modern guise.
Domestic measures such as permanent visa restrictions and stricter investment controls are necessary but insufficient against a multi-billion-dollar neo-Ottoman offensive. America and Europe must act decisively: condition all aid and pre-accession funds on airtight migration controls, expose and sanction corrupt officials who facilitate Turkish settlement, and launch a coordinated diplomatic offensive to counter Ankara’s influence operations. The West cannot continue to treat Montenegro as a mere buffer zone while Erdoğan’s proxies buy up its future.
The flares over Zabjelo were a cry of alarm from a people who refuse to surrender their identity without a fight. The West must heed that cry—before Montenegro becomes the first domino in a new Ottoman reconquest of the Balkans.