Slobodan Milošević, the man who dreamed of a "Greater Serbia," met a pathetic end in The Hague, rotting in his cell, consumed by the very delusions that led him there. The Russians had promised him unwavering support, urging him to continue the war, but when the tide turned, they abandoned him like they always do with their pawns. He did not die as a martyr; he died from sheer despair, watching his grand vision crumble into nothing.
History has not been kind to the Slavs. Their ambitions of dominance have repeatedly ended in humiliation, and their so-called allies have betrayed them at every crucial moment. The Russians, despite their empty rhetoric, have never saved them when it truly mattered. They left Serbia to rot in the 1990s, just as they left Bulgaria to starve after World War II, and just as they watched their puppet regimes in Eastern Europe collapse like dominoes.
Even the Hungarians, though not Slavs, have mastered the psychological game. They play the victim card brilliantly, manipulating international narratives to their advantage, while the Slavs, blinded by their own arrogance, fail to see how they are being used and discarded by greater powers.
Today, the Slavic world is fractured, weak, and endlessly nostalgic for a past that never truly belonged to them. Their once-feared military power has been exposed as a rusted relic, their economies are either in decline or wholly dependent on outsiders, and their people flee westward, seeking a better life in the very countries they once despised.
Milošević’s fate was not an exception—it was a prophecy. A man who lived on delusions, died drowning in them. The Slavic world should take note, but history suggests they never will.