Look at a map and the unresolved logic is striking. Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Kosovo, Montenegro, North Macedonia, and Serbia are almost entirely surrounded by EU and NATO members. These countries are not on some distant European frontier. They form an enclave within the Union's own geography. In 2003, at the Thessaloniki summit, the EU promised the Western Balkans a European future. More than two decades later, Croatia remains the last country to have joined, back in 2013. Since Russia's invasion of Ukraine, enlargement has shifted from a slow technical process to an urgent geopolitical question: what happens when Europe leaves a space inside its own borders unfilled?
My guests brought two unusually powerful perspectives to that question. Zoran Dimitrovski, North Macedonia's Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs and Foreign Trade, spent 35 years as a journalist before entering government. He edited some of his country's leading newspapers, reported from Washington, wrote more than 1,500 articles and investigations, and continues to teach critical thinking and analytical writing. Alongside him was Linas Kojala, CEO of the Geopolitics and Security Studies Center in Vilnius and a lecturer at Vilnius University. A Fulbright scholar with studies at Oxford, Cambridge and Harvard, Kojala has written about Lithuania's own journey into the European Union and has been ranked among his country's most influential public figures.
North Macedonia became an EU candidate in 2005, around the same time as Croatia. Yet it still has not opened substantive accession negotiations. The country first faced a long dispute with Greece over its name, eventually resolved through the Prespa Agreement and the adoption of the name North Macedonia. That opened the way into NATO. A second dispute then emerged with neighbouring Bulgaria, involving language, identity, history and the recognition of a Bulgarian community within North Macedonia’s constitution.
“It took us 20 years, and now a 21st year, to wait at the front door just to start negotiations.”
Zoran Dimitrovski did not deny the work still required within his own country. North Macedonia must continue aligning its laws with the EU, strengthening the judiciary and fighting corruption. His argument was that these shortcomings were not the principal reason the country had been stopped.
“We were blocked because of bilateral issues with our neighbours. They are asking us to change our identity, to change our history, and to change what we are and who we are.”
This describes one of the demands that, in Dimitrovski's view, reach beyond the Copenhagen criteria governing democratic institutions, human rights, the rule of law and a functioning market economy. There is, however, responsibility on both sides of the border and both sides of the accession table. The European Parliament’s latest assessment expresses regret at North Macedonia's lack of progress, calling for the constitutional amendments, stronger cross-party cooperation and deeper reforms. Yet that same resolution warns that bilateral disputes over language, culture and national identity should not be used to obstruct accession. This is the uncomfortable heart of the story: the EU must remain demanding enough for membership to retain meaning, while remaining fair enough for its promises to retain credibility.
Kojala argued that the enlargement machinery itself must adapt to a radically altered security landscape. The process still requires unanimity at critical stages, allowing one member state to hold up another country’s progress. Under normal circumstances, such caution might be defensible. These, he stressed, are not normal circumstances.
“We are living at the time of the biggest and most brutal war on the European continent since the Second World War.”
The EU's decision-making can be painfully slow because 27 governments must agree on decisions touching sovereignty, money and national interest. Kojala compared it to 27 friends attempting to choose a restaurant, except that several of them may not be friends and the decisions are monumental. The central question is therefore whether procedures devised 20 years ago are still adequate for a Europe facing war, cyber-attacks, sabotage, disinformation, and growing competition from authoritarian powers.
EU enlargement may sound abstract, but it rapidly becomes concrete. It is about railway lines, bridges, roads, energy systems and digital networks. Dimitrovski pointed to Corridors VIII and X, which cross North Macedonia and connect the Adriatic, Black and Aegean Seas with wider Europe. These routes matter for trade and daily life, but also for NATO's ability to move personnel and equipment across the continent. A bridge too weak to carry military vehicles is simultaneously an infrastructure problem, an economic weakness and a security vulnerability.
“It is very important that Europe builds these corridors… they are important for the mobility of forces from the Adriatic to the Black Sea and from Eastern Europe to the Aegean Sea.”Zoran Dimitrovski
Kojala offered a useful challenge to the language of cost. Security spending is often discussed as money disappearing from productive use. Yet roads, schools, housing, communications and transport capacity remain in the communities where they are built. The same is true of enlargement: investment in the Western Balkans is not charity at Europe's edge. It is investment in the resilience of the continent as a whole.
Russia remains an influential force in Serbia and parts of Bosnia and Herzegovina, while Chinese lending and infrastructure investment have expanded across the region. Dimitrovski was careful not to suggest that the Western Balkans would simply abandon Europe for Moscow or Beijing. His warning was more subtle. Prolonged uncertainty can produce weaker institutions, frustrated populations and a region increasingly exposed to financial pressure, political manipulation and disinformation.
“If we are waiting too long, this region may become an unstable political region and, in the future, a security-unstable region.”Zoran Dimitrovski
Europe therefore faces a choice that is larger than whether another flag appears outside the institutions in Brussels. It must decide whether the Western Balkans are genuinely part of its future, and demonstrate that belief through fair conditions, credible timelines and visible results.
Kojala described the European Union as something close to a "boring miracle": cumbersome, imperfect and endlessly predicted to collapse, yet remarkably capable of adapting and surviving. That miracle now requires another act of political imagination.
“We have our own national interests, but there are higher goals.”
Linas Kojala
