The Gradiška border crossing and Bosnia's politics of double standards

The opening of the new border crossing in Gradiška on the border with Croatia should have been an unpolitical moment: fewer traffic jams, faster border procedures, and a modern gateway between the European Union and Bosnia and Herzegovina. Instead, in Bosnia, an infrastructure project once again turned into a political power struggle — and another example of the double standards that have paralysed the country for years.

The latest escalation was initially triggered by a real crisis. After parts of the old bridge at the existing border crossing collapsed overnight, traffic had to be suspended temporarily. Long queues quickly formed at the border, which increased pressure on politicians to open the new crossing as quickly as possible.

Despite this, Bosnia remained trapped in its familiar political logic. During an emergency session of the Indirect Taxation’s Authority’s governing board, no agreement could be reached. The representative from the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Zijad Krnjić, refused to approve the crossing’s immediate opening, demanding that the legally required new coefficients for the distribution of VAT revenues first had to be agreed upon.

This is where the core of the conflict lies. Representatives of Republika Srpska have for months blocked adjustments to the distribution formula - which dictates how tax revenues are split based on regional consumption - despite the fact that these changes are required by law. The dispute involves substantial amounts of money owed to the Federation. Krnjić therefore argued that Republika Srpska cannot permanently refuse to fulfil state obligations while simultaneously demanding political exceptions and special arrangements.

Public portrayals of the conflict, however, often distort this reality. Krnjić did not block the border crossing out of ethnic hostility, but out of adherence to the law. In essence, his position was based on a simple principle: state agreements and legal obligations must apply equally to everyone — including Republika Srpska. Yet, this insistence quickly turned him into the target of a political and media campaign.

The breakthrough eventually came through Bosnia's Ministry of Security, where Ivica Bošnjak, representing the Croat nationalist party HDZ BiH signed a temporary emergency authorisation to open the gates.

Bosnia's Finance Minister Srđan Amidžić from the Serb nationalist SNSD party framed the situation very differently. After the crossing’s opening, he described it as a "political victory" for Republika Srpska. His choice of words was deliberate; the crossing had become a symbol of who in Bosnia is able to exert political pressure — and who is not. The escalation did not stop there. Amidžić publicly attacked Krnjić, referring to him as "an ordinary Muslim" rather than a Bosniak. He also invoked comparisons to the persecution of Jews during the Second World War, claiming Krnjić wanted to treat Serbs as "second-class citizens."

In a country still deeply scarred by the trauma of ethnic war, such rhetoric from a sitting minister illustrates how toxic Bosnia's political culture remains. At the same time, the original issue - Republika Srpska's unresolved financial obligations towards state-level institutions - was deliberately buried under the aggressive rhetoric.

For many Bosniaks and representatives of pro-state parties, this was yet another example of the increasingly close political alignment between HDZ and SNSD. The pattern is predictable: whenever politicians from Republika Srpska block institutions or ignore agreements, HDZ either remains silent or indirectly supports them. But as soon as someone insists on compliance with existing rules, "emergency solutions" suddenly emerge overnight to circumvent the rules.

A «Swedish buffet» of governance

Many Bosnians now describe this behaviour with a bitter metaphor: the state functions like a Swedish buffet. Political actors take only the institutions, laws and competences that serve their interests while rejecting the duties that come with them. European funds, state competencies and infrastructure projects are gladly accepted. But whenever courts, financial rules or state obligations contradict political interests, they are blocked or delegitimised.

This pattern is especially visible in the crisis surrounding the country's public broadcaster, BHRT, which is currently on the verge of financial collapse. The reason is a years-long dispute over broadcasting fees. Since 2017, the broadcaster of Republika Srpska, RTRS, has continued collecting fees while allegedly refusing to transfer the legally mandated share to BHRT. The debt is estimated at around 50 million euros.

The parallels with the Gradiška border dispute are striking. Once again, a legal agreement is not being respected, and once again, there is little political pressure from HDZ on its strategic partner SNSD.

Yet BHRT is far more than just another television station. In a deeply divided country, it remains one of the few institutions where Bosniaks, Croats and Serbs still work together, and broadcast in all three languages. During the Bosnian war, BHRT continued operating under siege in Sarajevo and became a symbol of survival and coexistence.

The fact that such an institution is now facing collapse because of unpaid obligations from Republika Srpska is, for many observers, no coincidence. Critics increasingly view this as part of a strategy aimed at weakening state-level institutions. Particularly controversial is the role of HDZ, which presents itself internationally as a pro-European political force while repeatedly supporting political constellations that undermine Bosnia's institutional stability.

The Gradiška case illustrates this pattern perfectly. Whenever SNSD interests are affected, emergency measures, transitional arrangements and political shortcuts suddenly become possible. But when state institutions insist on the implementation of laws, such actions are portrayed as "obstruction." This double standard continues to deepen distrust among many Bosniaks towards the political role of HDZ.

The Gradiška case also highlights the role of the European Union. Critics accuse the EU delegation in Sarajevo of prioritising short-term stability over the rule of law. Despite unresolved financial disputes, the opening of the border crossing received political backing. For many Bosnians, this creates the impression that Brussels tolerates ethnopolitical power arrangements as long as they maintain the peace.

The irony is that the new Gradiška border crossing was built to connect people. Thousands of people travel daily between Bosnia and Croatia, families live across borders, and trade between the countries is vital. Yet in Bosnia and Herzegovina, even roads, bridges and border lanes cannot escape the logic of ethnic power politics. In this way, a border crossing becomes not only a link between two states, but also a mirror of a country still struggling with its own political order.

Erdin Kadunić is a freelance journalist and Balkans expert with a particular interest in the NATO and EU integration processes of Bosnia-Herzegovina.