Croatian Illusion of Safety

Two months ago, just before the start of the parliamentary election campaign, Croatia's ruling party, the Croatian Democratic Union (HDZ), passed legislation recognizing femicide as a distinct crime. This was the first time such a law existed in Croatia. Considering the number of women brutally murdered by family members and the number of men praying for women to be subordinate to males on the first Saturday of each month, this rule was desperately needed.

However, just a few days after the law was passed, two women were killed in the same morning in Zagreb, Croatia's capital, which is considered one of the safest cities in the world. There are two sides to Croatia's safety. Yes, it is really safe for tourists since you can lose your wallet on the street and people will most likely search for you rather than take your money. You can even sleep on a park bench with no one touching you, and if you're a girl, you can walk safely at night. The last part is true only if no man that you personally know follows you. Otherwise, you could get killed in the most horrific way in the city, during the day, and become just another story from the evening news.

So, if you are a woman living in Croatia with a husband or partner who believes that your fate is in his hands and testosterone, you are not protected at all. If your partner has the legal right to carry a firearm and is a police officer, and you are killed by his gun, the entire Ministry of Internal Affairs will come out and explain to the nation how the gun is cleaned, and how it sometimes shoots during the process. I suppose the one thing they didn't learn is not to point a gun at another person or clean it in your apartment while having guests over.

As you can see, being "safe" in Croatia is a relative term; it’s primarily determined by who you live with.

One of the two victims from April 5 was shot by her husband. These killings provoked a brief discussion on whether the new law recognizing femicide and the Istanbul convention can accomplish anything or if they are simply here to "pretend that we are protecting women."

Another question that remains unanswered by everyone, except by one Telegram journalist,  is how this is not a particularly interesting topic for Croats. Two women were killed in one morning in a safe city of only 800,000 people. Nobody is interested. There were two articles that day. Under such stories, a few people have left comments praying for their souls and families. And then. Silence.

The media’s complicit silence 

This article doesn't aim to address the critical issue of femicide, although its significance cannot be understated. Rather, it delves into why femicides in Croatia fail to garner significant attention, both from the media and society at large.

Often, femicide cases are relegated to a mere mention in one article, with stark simplicity: "A male family member killed a female family member." While these articles provide basic details like date, time, and manner of death, they lack the journalistic depth required to understand the root causes behind these killings, the alarming rise in their numbers, and what measures society can take to prevent future tragedies. 

The terminology used in Croatian media reflects the scale of the crime committed. If you're the perpetrator, you're safe at all times; your initials may be revealed, but there's no cause to be concerned. Your career and well-being are mostly unaffected.

Occasionally, Croatian media does pay more attention to the identity of the perpetrator, particularly if they're politicians, sports figures, or celebrities. While these discussions are undoubtedly important, the same level of scrutiny should be applied to ordinary cases to ensure they aren't swept under the rug.

One platform shedding light on these concerning media practices in Croatia is "Seksizam naš svagdašnji" (Our Everyday Sexism). Through daily or weekly compilations, depending on the frequency of incidents, they hold Croatian media accountable for their portrayal of women. These critiques range from objectifying women's bodies and appearances to sensationalizing rape and murder cases in the most repulsive manner imaginable.

For instance, Dubrovački vjesnik, a local media outlet, reported on a rape case in a Dubrovnik hostel with a headline that trivialized the assault: "Here's how she 'enjoyed herself' before crying rape." While such sensationalized headlines may drive clicks, addressing rape as a broader societal issue could yield more substantial benefits for these outlets.

Another horrific case comes from Bjelovar, where a man named Antonio tried to decapitate his wife with an axe in their backyard. Bjelovar Live's description of this horrific tragedy reduced it to a casual remark: "Antonio was really drunk!" followed by a cheerful emoji wearing sunglasses.

In their pursuit of sensationalism, the media seems to have forgotten its fundamental purpose: to inform the public, prompt critical thinking, raise awareness about societal issues, and contribute to societal improvement.

The public’s apathy

This exposes yet another complicit party in these heinous crimes against women: the general public.

The prevailing sentiment among many Croats is a lack of genuine concern when it comes to the plight of women facing violence. Instead, they dismiss such concerns as Western propaganda aimed at dismantling their cherished "traditional way of living." This sentiment is exemplified by the increasing number of men congregating in main squares every first Saturday, fervently advocating for a return to traditional gender roles where women are subservient to men.

Beyond mere disinterest, Croatians often romanticize families with abusive husbands, praising them as "the epitome of family values" or applauding the virtues of a violent man who, in public, appeared to be a model husband and father. This dangerous narrative suggests that outward politeness somehow absolves individuals of their monstrous behaviour—a notion similar to the shock surrounding serial killer Ted Bundy, whose charm and intelligence belied his heinous crimes.

A glance at comments under articles addressing violence against women or femicide reveals a disturbing trend: victim-blaming and skepticism towards the victims' actions. Many question what the victim did to provoke their assailant, or why they didn't report the abuse sooner. Even in cases where victims did seek help and the system failed to protect them, Croatian society often shifts the blame back onto the victim, suggesting they were not convincing enough or foolish for staying in a dangerous situation.

Rarely do we encounter comments that recognize the systemic failures at play or acknowledge the collective responsibility of society. Few acknowledge that the perpetrator's violent tendencies may have been evident to those around them—neighbours, family members, the media, or the authorities—but were met with silence. And even when such comments do surface, they are quickly met with rebuttals, reiterating the same victim-blaming rhetoric: "What did she do to provoke him?" or "Surely someone would have noticed if he was truly violent."

Violence in the Spotlight: Football vs. Femicide

As evidenced by the preceding discussion, Croats do not appear to be very concerned with the well-being of women, whether living or deceased. Instead, the nation's enthusiasm centred around football, with excitement that crosses gender lines.

Another common kind of violence in Croatia is fights between Ultras groups or Ultras factions and law enforcement. Notably, barely a week before the two femicides in Zagreb, a major fight involving Torcida (the Ultras group of football club Hajduk Split) broke out, resulting in conflicts with police and bystanders, as well as stadium property.

Naturally, the incident captured the nation's attention. The media splashed headlines, TV shows provided conversations with experts analyzing the violence, and the public demanded answers about why such incidents occur and what actions society and the state should take to ensure safety during football matches.

The consensus reached stressed that the issue extends beyond the acts of a few hundred unhappy Ultras members. Rather, it refers to deeper societal problems that occur in various circumstances. There were broad calls for institutional intervention, including legislation to prohibit violent persons from stadiums, ensuring the safety of all spectators. One can't help but wonder how much safer the women who were tragically killed would have been if victims of domestic violence had received the same level of enthusiasm and institutional backing.

In this case, the media demonstrated a strong sense of duty. They carefully covered the incident, conducting in-depth investigations into its causes and consequences. Despite the extensive coverage over several weeks, the media abstained from digging into the culprits' personal past or speculating about their interactions with neighbors—a level of scrutiny that is sometimes done when victims of violence are women rather than stadium seats.

Unsurprisingly, the media went to considerable lengths to hide the identity of those involved in stadium vandalism and attacks on police officers. Despite the lack of facial disguises, media outlets carefully chose photographs that hid their features, protecting their employment, familial relationships, and social standing.

Known to police, unknown to justice

If you listen to Croatian radio or read the news, you’ll often hear a familiar phrase following a femicide: “Nasilnik je od prije poznat policiji” or “the perpetrator is already known to the police.”

This phrase indicates that someone had previously reported the perpetrator's violent behaviour—typically the woman who has now become his victim. Despite prior warnings, authorities did nothing significant to prevent the tragedy, leaving society to express its collective sorrow.

When a woman reports domestic violence, the typical police response is to visit the home, have a brief conversation with the husband, and sometimes, though not always, take him to the station. The idea is for the couple to "sleep it off," but this often results in the man returning home angrier and more violent.

Moreover, the police frequently fail to recognize the severity of the violence, particularly psychological abuse. They dismiss it as "normal marital behaviour" and rarely take meaningful legal action against the perpetrator.

These systemic failures, combined with a traditional society that teaches girls to interpret abuse as affection and to remain silent to avoid embarrassment, discourage new victims from reporting crimes. Women feel isolated and believe that no one will protect them. Tragically, this perception is validated when authorities fail to act, as exemplified by high-profile cases where officials downplay incidents. For instance, when a police officer killed his girlfriend, the response was to publicly claim it was an accident, rather than addressing the deeper issues of domestic violence and accountability.

The cycle of inaction and societal norms perpetuates a culture where victims have little reason to seek help, knowing that their cries for assistance are likely to be ignored or minimized.

From indifference to action

Even in one of the safest countries in the world, women are far from being safe. As long as traditional societal norms keep them silent, and people fear their neighbour’s opinion more than the potential loss of a family member, nothing will change. While recognizing femicide as a separate criminal offense in Croatian law is a significant step, it becomes meaningless if women reporting crimes are merely told that this is a normal part of marriage. This law then becomes a superficial measure for the government to claim progress and solicit votes.

The saddest part is that society appears indifferent. It’s time to shatter the illusion that Croatians live in a tightly-knit, caring community. Singing national songs during the World Cup or gathering to watch Eurovision does not make us special. What would truly distinguish us, especially in the Balkans, is taking domestic violence and femicide seriously. If fathers, boyfriends, and husbands watching the game were angrier about the lack of protection for their mothers, sisters, and wives than about a “wrongfully given red card,” we could make real progress.

And to Croatian media: journalism is not just another job without significant consequences. You should investigate femicides with the same rigour and prominence as you do ultras fights, if not more. Before adding an emoji to an article about a killed or attacked woman, think twice about the gravity of the situation.

To all those who remain silent or look the other way, remember that change begins with awareness and action. It’s not enough to mourn after the fact; we must be proactive in preventing these tragedies. Advocate for stricter enforcement of laws, support victims, and challenge the cultural norms that perpetuate this violence. Only then can we hope to create a society where every woman can truly feel safe.

Sincerely, 

Hopefully, not another number in Croatian femicide reports


References:

‘Brutalno Ubojstvo Žene u Zagrebu, Ubojica Je Ženi Bio Bliska Osoba - HRT’ <https://vijesti.hrt.hr/hrvatska/zagreb-je-sigurniji-od-ostalih-europskih-metropola-11524770> [accessed 3 June 2024]

‘DORH Neće Istraživati Policiju Koja Je Tvrdila Da Je Policajac Slučajno Ubio Djevojku - Index.Hr’ <https://www.index.hr/vijesti/clanak/dorh-nece-istrazivati-policiju-koja-je-tvrdila-da-je-policajac-slucajno-ubio-djevojku/2512453.aspx> [accessed 3 June 2024]

‘Femicid Je Dio Kaznenog Zakona, i? Danas Su Ubijene Dvije Žene. Stručnjakinja Za N1 Objašnjava Što Se Dogodilo - N1’ <https://n1info.hr/vijesti/femicid-je-dio-kaznenog-zakona-i-danas-su-ubijene-dvije-zene-strucnjakinja-za-n1-objasnjava-sto-se-dogodilo/> [accessed 3 June 2024]

‘Jutarnji List - “Djevojka (21) Je Ubijena Službenim Pištoljem Svog Dečka, Policajca. Nespretno Je Rukovao Oružjem i Ispalio Hitac...”’ <https://www.jutarnji.hr/vijesti/crna-kronika/osjecka-policija-tvrdi-policajac-27-je-slucajno-ubio-svoju-djevojku-21-15376907> [accessed 3 June 2024]

‘Tena Štivičić: Femicid Je Kriminaliziran, a Modrobradi Nastavlja Ubijati Žene | Telegram.Hr’ <https://www.telegram.hr/kultura/tek-sto-je-femicid-usao-u-kazneni-zakon-u-zagrebu-su-ubijene-dvije-zene-nista-se-ne-mijenja-modrobradi-nastavlja-svoj-krvavi-pohod/> [accessed 3 June 2024]

‘VIDEO Kaos Na Poljudu: Torcida Upala Na Teren, Interventna Ih Potjerala: “Osuđujemo Nasilje” | 24sata’ <https://www.24sata.hr/sport/kaos-na-poljudu-torcida-upala-na-teren-igraci-pobjegli-u-tunel-974750> [accessed 3 June 2024]

‘What’s Up With Grown Men Kneeling in Zagreb Main Square? - Total Croatia’ <https://total-croatia-news.com/news/men-kneeling-zagreb/> [accessed 3 June 2024]

Čatipović, Čatipović, and Mirjana Kučer, ‘Femicide as a Separate Criminal Offense: A Milestone in Croatia - WOMEN AGAINST VIOLENCE EUROPE’, 2024 <https://wave-network.org/femicide-criminal-offense-croatia/> [accessed 3 June 2024]

About the author:

Monika Tomljanović is a political scientist who co-leads the Communications Committee at Politics4Her Europe Hub. She also manages social media for the Balkans section of the European Correspondent newsletter. Her academic interests lie in comparative politics and women's rights with a focus on addressing gender-based violence, reproductive rights, and advocating for equal access to education.

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