INTERVIEW: From cinema to Serbian police cell in one unlucky “take”

INTERVIEW: From cinema to Serbian police cell in one unlucky “take”
/ Gavrilo Andrić
By Tatyana Kekic in Belgrade August 26, 2025

When Serbian authorities announced the arrest of three foreigners in Belgrade on August 14, the message was clear. “So much for the absence of foreign involvement,” said Interior Minister Ivica Dacic, claiming a Croatian, a Slovenian and an Italian had attacked police during clashes. For the government, it was proof that unrest in Serbia is fuelled by foreign agents.

One of those “agents” is Alessio Laterza, an Italian software engineer from Puglia. He works at Microsoft and has lived in Belgrade for almost three years. A relaxed, yoga-practising expat, he says he fell in love with the city. On the night in question, he was at a screening of Paolo Sorrentino’s Parthenope. Walking home, he stumbled into a protest.

“By accident I ended up in the worst moment possible,” he told bne IntelliNews. “I was moving away from the fights, but policemen surrounded the area. They parked the car next to me. I think we were among the first arrested that night.”

The officers belonged to the JZO, a special police unit tasked with protecting senior officials and government buildings. On August 14, Laterza — a man walking home from the cinema — was their quarry, not the masked protesters looking for a fight.

“They put us in this famous garage,” he recalled, referring to a government complex on Nemanjina street, notorious since multiple detainees reported being taken there that night. “There were people lying on the ground, face against the asphalt. Police were really aggressive, shouting at us. Ninety percent of my experience was in Serbian – without subtitles.”

He sat against the wall as their phones were smashed. “I saw my phone flying next to me broken, crushed ... At that moment I heard police beating people. I was facing the wall, and they were very cautious, shouting at us, heads down, heads down. But it was clear they were beating people.”

Among those detained was 23-year-old Nikolina Sinđelić, who later accused JZO commander Marko Kričko of slapping her, banging her head against the wall and threatening sexual assault. The authorities denied it. When Sinđelić spoke on N1, a former official posted explicit photographs of her online, sparking protests under the slogan “We are all Nikolina”, demanding prosecutions and Kričko’s dismissal.

Laterza remembers her from the garage. “From the people I saw, she was the only girl. The police were beating a man next to her, and she stood up for him. Then they started threatening her with rape in front of everyone. It was all in Serbian—I only got bits of translation from my friends.”

At dawn, Laterza was taken to a Voždovac police station, held in a cell, and eventually brought before a judge. He was accused of throwing stones at police and told that a police officer and CCTV footage supposedly backed it up. He says he was denied both a lawyer and a call to his embassy.

“The judge told me I had two options — pay a penalty or face a criminal case. She said, ‘If I were you, I’d just accept the penalty.’” Laterza refused, insisting on his innocence. He was released in the afternoon of August 15 after roughly fourteen hours in custody.

That morning, Dacic appeared on television. Three foreigners had been arrested. One was Italian. Serbia’s ruling party had their “proof” of foreign interference. “There was this funny declaration that I’m part of the foreign factor,” Laterza said drily. “I was just unlucky. I was walking where police parked the car. As soon as they stepped out, I was their Christmas gift.”

In mid-August, demonstrations against President Aleksandar Vucic’s government escalated into violent clashes in Belgrade, Novi Sad and Valjevo, fuelled by protesters’ desperation and the government’s aggressive stance. Vucic’s opponents accuse the regime of encouraging violence, letting their supporters attack protesters while security services stand by.

For Laterza, who says he only attends peaceful demonstrations, the experience was sobering. “I was quite lucky,” he says, not to be beaten. “But I was also innocent.” He stresses that what happened is not typical of Serbia as he knows it. “I love this city, I love this country. I am surrounded by lovely people who welcomed me from day one. It would be stupid to change my mind just because I stepped into the wrong people.”

Still, his story exposes a darker side of the country he has come to love: protesters beaten in a government garage, young women targeted with leaked intimate photos and foreign IT specialists recast overnight as “foreign conspirators”. 

“I was afraid they would build stories about me that weren’t true,” Laterza said. In Serbia today, that fear is sadly not misplaced.

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