In the shadow of the local elections in October 2025, North Macedonia, as before every election cycle, faced a phenomenon much more dangerous than the usual political rhetoric. A three-month monitoring of the online space, conducted during the period from July to September 2025, reveals a disturbing picture of a society sinking into digital trenches. What appears to be sporadic incidents on social networks, in fact represents a precisely synchronized machinery of disinformation and harmful narratives that share a single goal: to turn ethnic identity into the sole political currency, at the cost of complete destabilization of social trust.
The analysis of hundreds of viral contents shows that a very small part of the information space of the Macedonian and Albanian communities overlaps. Instead of dialogue, it seems we are witnessing two parallel monologues immersed in hatred, where each side sees itself as the victim, and the other as the threat. These narratives do not remain closed within the digital world and directly spill over onto sports fields, schoolyards, city buses, and also onto the streets, in neighborhood environments.
The Myth of the “Siege” to Create Fear Among Macedonians
In the Macedonian digital ecosystem, one of the dominant narratives that permeated throughout the months is the fear of losing the state and sovereignty. Albanians are often portrayed not just as fellow citizens who have different political views, but also as “conquerors” who are actively working to destroy Macedonian identity.
This narrative gained explosive dimensions in July, through the incident involving the fan group “Ballisti” of the Shkendija football club. What was essentially a midnight march of fans before a match, was framed through sensationalistic reporting as a military operation. The Bosnian online media outlet SportSport.ba, and later Macedonian online media, transmitted an extreme comment from social networks: “The end is coming for the Slav-Macedonians, Ethnic Albania, there is no other,” and placed it in headlines as if it were an official proclamation of the fan group. Such manipulation, where the marginal voice of an extremist is presented as the collective stance of an entire ethnic group, successfully activated the narrative of an “invasion” on Skopje and solidified the perception of “Albanians as aggressors” seeking domination.
This fear is also maintained through the narrative of the “privileged Albanian” who is above the law. In August, a satirical post on the Facebook page “Misija” which claimed that “a square meter in Aračinovo should cost 4,000 euros because you buy once and have no expenses until the end of your life,” went viral. Although humorous at first glance, this post deeply resonated with impatience among some Macedonians, fueling the stereotype of Albanians as citizens who do not respect laws, do not pay for electricity, and misuse state resources to the detriment of the majority. A similar effect was observed in the reaction to court decisions on murder cases, where the Instagram profile “Boemot” promoted the thesis that the judiciary applies double standards: if the perpetrator is Albanian, they drink coffee at home, and if they are Macedonian, they immediately go into detention.
The Narrative of the “Eternal Victim” for Mobilizing Albanians
On the other side of the ethnic divide, the Albanian online sphere is dominated by the narrative of systemic discrimination and state persecution. Every action taken by the institutions is interpreted not as an administrative or legal measure, but as proof of an organized plan for the de-Albanization of the state.
This narrative was heavily exploited by the ethnic Albanian political party DUI in July, which accused institutions of “ethnic cleansing” after 25 Macedonians and only one Albanian were employed in the Ministry of Defense. Although the employment falls under a legal category, Albanian language media framed this as a “systematic plan for the exclusion of Albanians” and the construction of a mono-ethnic state, which caused an avalanche of angry comments and a feeling of collective endangerment.
This feeling of insecurity is easily manipulated through disinformation. In September, social media was flooded with news that an Albanian doctor at the Children’s Clinic in Skopje was banned from speaking Albanian. Although this information was false and lacked any official confirmation, it was accepted as absolute truth because it perfectly fit into the already constructed narrative of oppression. Comments exploded with claims that “there is no institution in North Macedonia where you can speak Albanian,” further deepening distrust in the state apparatus.
Physical security is another key topic. The incident in Bitola in August, when a boy was attacked because of a T-shirt with a double-headed eagle, heightened tension between the communities. On one hand, political actors and part of the public portrayed this event as an example of a society where Albanians are treated as second-class citizens and their national symbols are seen as a threat, which led to dangerous calls for “self-defense” and revenge. On the other hand, the fan group behind the attack claims that the incident had no inter-ethnic motive and that the symbol on the T-shirt was a profound provocation for them, related to historical and local feelings of belonging and pride. This clash of perspectives shows the complexity of the topic and the risk of escalation of violence if both sides are not addressed.
The Phenomenon of “Double Standards”
The most dangerous aspect of these narratives is that both communities use the same argument to justify their radicalization or the so-called argument of “double standards”.
When the incident at the basketball game in Kumanovo occurred in August, where anti-Albanian chants were heard, the reaction on social media was instant polarization. Albanian TikTok users shared videos with comments about “returning to the gas chambers,” accusing the state leadership of enjoying the suffering of Albanians. At the same time, the Macedonian online community reacted defensively, claiming that Macedonian fans are unfairly penalized, while similar outbursts by Albanian fans (“Greater Albania,” “Ilirida”) go unpunished. This mutual accusation that “others are allowed everything, and we are allowed nothing” creates a vicious cycle where every new incident is not a reason to condemn violence, but a reason to count the sins of “ours” and “yours”.
The peak of dehumanization occurred after the incident at the youth football match in Shtip, where parents physically attacked children. Instead of condemning violence against minors, the comments on Facebook called Albanians a “savage tribe” and “Kachaks” calling for the use of “Bulgarian tactics” for expulsion. On the other hand, Albanian commentators compared the situation to Kosovo before the war, claiming that Macedonians were intentionally staging incidents. When children become the target of ethnic hatred, it is clear that the social fabric is on the verge of tearing.
From “Fact-Check” to “Reality Check”
How to escape this labyrinth of hatred? Simply checking and debunking disinformation and harmful narratives is no longer enough. This is because emotions are simply stronger than facts.
A more effective solution is the proactive use of unifying narratives that will deconstruct the logic of division. However, for this to happen, not only are the efforts of civil society organizations needed, but also concrete engagement from political actors, which evidently dominate all discourses in society. Perhaps what is most needed are leaders who will begin the path, move forward, and create a common history with the future, free of prejudice and complexes.
The first step, of course, is shifting the focus from an ethnic to a civic narrative. Contrary to the narrative that “Albanians do not pay for electricity,” journalistic stories should raise awareness that privileges in this country do not have an ethnic signifier, but perhaps first and foremost, a party and financial one. Corruption and impunity are common enemies. loopholes in the law are used by powerful people of all nationalities while poverty equally affects Macedonians in Bitola and Albanians in Aračinovo.
A second possible counter-narrative should focus on common life problems. While politicians like Ali Ahmeti and Hristijan Mickoski exchange allegories about “eagles” and “hunting dogs” , citizens breathe the same polluted air. Analyses might better remind us that neither the monument to Kjoseto nor the chants for “Greater Albania” will improve the dire state of healthcare or education.
The real division is not between those who cross themselves and those who bow down, but between those who have access to quality public services and those who are left on the margins.
