Putin.

He came to Serbia this week to shore up one of his allies,

President Aleksandar Vucic, who critics accuse

of dismantling democracy at home.

The ceremony played out at this historic church.

We watched the lavish festivities

which felt more like a coronation

than a state visit.

People attended from all corners of the country.

But most of them were bussed in.

It's a carefully orchestrated show

loaded with symbolism.

And at a time when authoritarianism is on the rise,

a visit like this suggests that Serbia is moving

in a similar direction.

Vucic was elected in 2017.

Over the last two years,

he's amassed more power, silenced the press

and undermined opposition.

In November,

Borko Stefanovic, a prominent opposition

leader, was assaulted on his way to meet

some of his supporters.

“Just describe the attack itself.

What happened?”

“They knocked me unconscious from the back,

so I was hit.

They actually tried to murder me

because when I was unconscious, they continued

to hit me in the head.

There was a lot of blood on my shirt

and at the press conference the day

after, I showed the bloody shirt to the public,

and actually actually that the image of that shirt

was the spark for these protests.”

“And that's why the protesters carry

signs saying 'No more blood'.”

“Yes, exactly that's the reason why.”

The attack sent thousands of protesters into the streets.

And they've returned for six weeks straight,

accusing the president of creating a climate of fear

and paranoia.

We sat down with President Vucic

and asked him to respond to his critics.

“I guess there's some concern that

in your relationship with Putin that maybe that model is

being adopted here as well.”

“Which model?”

“The model the more authoritarian-style

of government.”

“If you think so,

what can I say to you?”

“You can tell me if you think that's an incorrect analysis,

or if you think that's accurate.”

“I think it is an incorrect analysis.

I think that we belong to a very democratic society.”

We met Jelena Anasonovic,

one of the original organizers of the antigovernment protests.

“So what is this what we're getting on here?”

“Yeah” “Number 41?”

“Yeah, 41.” “41.”

“O.K.”

“Serbian public transportation.”

“So these protests,

they started over the beating of one politician,

but it's sort of taken on a lot more.

So it's kind of everyone who is upset about what exactly?”

“The main reason is the like raising violence

in our institutions.

They're creating the atmosphere of fear.”

She sat down with a group of friends in a downtown cafe

to plan the next demonstration.

“Have all of you thought about leaving at some point?”

“Yeah, definitely at some points of

despair we thought about leaving the country.

But it was like more,

we want to have decent jobs.

We want to have a decent society

without lies, manipulation discrimination.”

“I mean, to me, you guys, you guys

are out here with your faces, your names.

Are you not afraid?

I mean, are you worried that there might be consequences

for either you or your family?”

“Yes, we are.” “You are?”

“But you're still out here?”

“Yes, because we need to be here

because I want to change something

and I want to live in a decent, normal country.”

The students' frustrations have echoed throughout the city,

and people have joined the movement

from all walks of life.

Like here,

at one of the oldest theaters in Belgrade.

The night we attended, a dark comedy about the breakdown

of society was showing.

Bane Trifunovic is a well-known actor here.

And he is now a public face for the movement.

“Bravo!”

Two of Bane's shows have been banned.

A reminder, he said, of the 1990s

when former President Slobodan Milosevic

ruled through intimidation.

In 2000, a popular movement swept him out of power.

“This building has a lot of history

because you when you see all these photos here,

it's all about history.”

“They're amazing.”

“One of the things that I'm so curious about,

how heavily history hangs over everywhere here.”

“It's everywhere.

It's in this whiskey, you know. It's everywhere.”

“So I don't want to date you, but,

you would've been in your 20s in 2000 right?

You know, now 18 years after that moment, here

you are in, I don't know how you would describe it,

but do you feel disappointed?”

“Yes.” “Why?”

“Because actually nothing happens.

Now, we were living in worse play ever written.”

“You're living in the worst play ever written?”

“Yeah.”

We met up with Jelena again.

She was one of the thousands attending

a vigil for a politician who was murdered

one year ago.

But even as more people have risen up, week

after week, few of them expect to take down the government.

Vucic remains powerful and many

who oppose him don't see a real alternative

in the opposition.

But they hope that their continuing resistance

will at least break down the barrier of fear.