недеља, 7. јун 2026.

10 Foods to Avoid on the Campaign Trail

 10 Foods to Avoid on the Campaign Trail

I've spent decades in the field alongside presidential and prime ministerial candidates. I've learned that campaigns are won and lost on the smallest details — including what the candidate eats on camera. A campaign isn't just messaging, strategy, and organization. Sometimes you're just one bite away from disaster.

May 2005. Pre-election campaign in Britain. Tony Blair buys Gordon Brown an ice cream cone in front of a large gang of media following them around. Two men who could hardly stand each other trying to look like a team for the voters. The snapshot traveled across the world. Everyone observed the contrived normalcy. Maybe a lot of people thought of that photo on Election Day. Whether ice cream is a good idea — see below

Over two decades ago, I was working as campaign manager for my first presidential candidate. He refused to eat most things while we were on the road. His only request: enough chocolate and Coca-Cola in the car. I didn't understand why at the time, but I learned later.

A campaign runs 24/7. Every meal in a public place is a potential photo. Every photo is a potential front page. Or a negative story on the opposition's websites.

Here's what I've learned from other people's mistakes — and from my own experience — about what not to eat in public:

10. Milk and Yogurt Healthy choice — but if you're drinking yogurt from a cup, never lick the lid. Watch out for the "milk mustache." And always check the price of dairy products before you get photographed with them. Journalists love asking politicians what things cost at the grocery store.

9. Potatoes Too many potatoes during a campaign = a noticeable difference in before-and-after photos. Voters notice. So do journalists.

8. Meat White meat is healthy. But whatever you order, go boneless. The last thing your campaign needs is a photo of you going at it with your hands.

7. Corn on the Cob We all love it. Grilled or boiled. Before you even think about eating it in public, stop in front of a mirror first and take an honest look at yourself. You're welcome.

6. Pretzels and Rolls Same problem as corn — the chewing process rarely looks dignified.

5. Fast Food Every PR team's nightmare. Especially with generous amounts of ketchup and mayo. Especially on the street.

4. Ice Cream Never in a cone. Blair and Brown learned that the hard way. There is no scenario in which your ice cream won't melt and start running down your fingers while everyone around you reaches for their phones to snap and record.

3. Goulash and Paprikash: Fantastic dishes. But a stained tie or a politician in a bib make for great front-page photos. For your opponent's campaign.

2. Sushi Healthy, trendy, popular. Thousands of miles from the ocean, your stomach isn't always ready for the adventure. And if you're not handy with chopsticks, forget about it in public.

1. Bread and Salt Almost a tradition in our politics. If you can't refuse, take the smallest possible piece of bread and the minimum amount of salt. Salt dries out your throat. Breadcrumbs get stuck between your teeth. And the rally speech that follows with a dry mouth will not be your finest moment on the campaign trail.

A note for advance teams: talk to the host in advance and warn them what works and what doesn't.

A campaign isn't just messaging and strategy — it's thousands of small details that together build or break a candidate's image.

What would you add to this list? 👇

#PoliticalCampaigning #CampaignManagement #Leadership #Communications #ElectionStrategy

 

10 namirnica koje treba da izbegavati tokom kampanje


Proveo sam decenije na terenu uz predsedničke i premijerske kandidate. Naučio sam da kampanja gubi i dobija na najsitnijim detaljima — uključujući i ono što kandidat jede pred kamerama. Kampanja nije samo poruka, strategija i organizacija. Ponekad vas samo jedan zalogaj deli od katastrofe. 

 

Maj 2005. Predizborna kampanje u Britaniji. Tony Blair kupuje Gordonu Brownu sladoled u kornetu pred velikim brojem novinara koji ih prate. Njih dvojica koji se jedva trpe pokušavaju da izgledaju kao tim zbog glasača. Fotografija je obišla svet. Svi su videli insceniranu normalnost. Možda su se mnogi upravo te fotografije setili na izborni dan. Da li je sladoled dobro jesti pogledajte dole u tekstu.

 

Pre više od dve decenije radio sam kao menadžer kampanje mog prvog predsedničkog kandidata. Odbijao je da jede većinu stvari dok smo na putu. Tražio je samo da u autu ima dovoljno čokolade i Coca-Cole. U to vreme nisam razumeo zašto ali sam kasnije naučio. 

 

Kampanja je 24/7. Svaki obrok na javnom mestu je potencijalna fotografija. Svaka fotografija je potencijalna naslovna strana. Ili negativna vest na protivničkim portalima.

 

Evo šta sam naučio na greškama drugih ali i iz moje prakse šta ne treba jesti u javnosti:

 

10. Mleko i jogurt

Zdrav izbor  ali ukoliko pijete jogurt iz čaše, nikada ne ližite poklopac. Pazite da vam ne ostanu ‘brkovi’. I uvek proverite cenu mleka i mlečnih prerađevina pre nego što se fotografišete sa njim. Novinari vole da pitaju političare za cene namirnica.

 

9. Krompir

Puno krompira tokom kampanje = vidljiva razlika na fotografijama pre i posle. Birači (a i novinari) to primećuju.

 

8. Meso

Belo meso je zdravo. No koje god da naručujete uzimajte ono bez kostiju. Ne treba nam u kampanji fotografija kako ga dok jedete rukama.

 

7. Kukuruz

Svi ga volimo. I onaj pečeni i kuvani. Pre nego što vam padne na pamet da ga jedete na ulici stanite jednom pred ogledalo i pogledajte se iskreno kako izgledate dok to radite.

 

6. Perece i kifle

Slično kao kukuruz  proces žvakanja retko izgleda dostojanstveno.

 

5. Fast food

Noćna mora svakog PR tima. Naročito uz obilan kečap i majonez. Naročito na ulici.

 

4. Sladoled

Nipošto u kornetu. Blair i Brown su to naučili na teži način. Ne postoji scenario u kome vam se sladoled neće topiti i krenuti da se sliva niz prste dok svi oko vas vade telefone i kreću da slikaju i snimaju.

 

3. Gulaš i paprikaš

Fantastična jela. Ali umrljana kravata ili političar sa portiklom su odlične fotografija za naslovne strane. Za kampanju vašeg protivnika.

 

2. Suši

Zdrav, moderan, popularan. Hiljadama kilometara daleko od okeana, stomak nije uvek spreman. A ako niste vešti sa štapićima zaboravite ga na javnom mestu. 

 

1. Hleb i so

Skoro tradicija u našoj politici. Ako ne možete da odbijete uzmite najmanji mogući komad hleba i minimum soli. So suši grlo. Mrvice od pogače ostaju između zuba. A govor na mitingu koji sledi sa suvim ustima neće biti vaš najbolji govor tokom kampanje.

 

Poruka za advance timove: razgovarajte sa domaćinom unapred i upozorite ih šta može a šta ne.

 

Kampanja nije samo poruka i strategija  to su i hiljade malih detalja koji zajedno grade ili ruše sliku kandidata.

 

Šta biste vi dodali na ovu listu? 👇

 

#PoliticalCampaigning #CampaignManagement #Leadership #Communications #ElectionStrategy

BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA: THE COUNTRY WHERE THERE IS NO WINNER AFTER ELECTIONS

A field guide to one of the most complex electoral systems in the world—Lebanon being the only real contender

 

October 4, 2026. General election day in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Depending on where they live, voters are choosing between three and seven different layers of government at the same time: the Presidency of BiH, the Parliamentary Assembly of BiH, the Parliament of the Federation of BiH, or the National Assembly of Republika Srpska, cantonal assemblies in the Federation, as well as the President and Vice Presidents of Republika Srpska.

This is not a democratic system someone carefully designed. This is a system patched together in Dayton in November 1995 to stop a war. Thirty years later, that same system blocks any chance of normal state functionality.

Here’s what it looks like from the inside.

 

ARCHITECTURE: THREE SYSTEMS IN ONE

Bosnia and Herzegovina consists of two entities: the Federation of BiH and Republika Srpska, with the Brčko District grafted on top. Each entity has its own constitution, its own government, its own parliament. Above them sits a shared state structure: the Presidency (three members, one from each constituent people), the Parliamentary Assembly (House of Representatives and House of Peoples), and the Council of Ministers.

What that means in practice: most political parties in BiH are playing on three chessboards at once—entity, cantonal (in the Federation), and state level. Coalition partners in Sarajevo can be bitter enemies in Banja Luka. Parties governing together in one canton can be suing each other before the Constitutional Court at the state level.

Normal? No. Predictable? Absolutely—once you understand the system wasn’t designed to function, but to prevent any one side from winning.

 

 

FEDERATION OF BiH: THE CANTONAL MAZE

The Federation is divided into ten cantons. Each canton has its own assembly. Each cantonal assembly selects delegates to the House of Peoples of the Federation Parliament—indirectly, along ethnic lines: 23 Bosniaks, 23 Croats, 23 Serbs, plus 11 “Others”—80 delegates in total.

The House of Representatives of the Federation Parliament has 98 members, elected directly through a proportional system with open lists, across twelve electoral districts (70 direct mandates and 28 compensatory seats). The threshold is two percent.

Sounds complicated? It is. But complexity isn’t the real problem — the political logic is.

The House of Peoples is elected indirectly from cantonal assemblies, along ethnic lines. Voters do not elect these delegates. Cantonal MPs do. Voters elect a cantonal assembly; that assembly selects delegates; those delegates form the House of Peoples, and that chamber can block any law if it is deemed to threaten a “vital national interest” of one of the constituent peoples.

“Vital national interest.” A phrase that has made its way into every political dispute in BiH since Dayton. Any party, at any moment, can declare that a law—on roads, pensions, or healthcare financing—threatens a vital national interest. And block it.

 

REPUBLIKA SRPSKA: SIMPLER, BUT NOT SIMPLE

Republika Srpska runs a more streamlined system: the National Assembly has 83 members elected through proportional representation from a single, entity-wide district, with a three percent threshold. The president of Republika Srpska is elected directly, in a single round—whoever gets the most votes wins.

No runoff. No absolute majority. A relative win is enough.

This is a system that rewards parties with strong organization and disciplined voter bases. The results speak for themselves: the Alliance of Independent Social Democrats has dominated since 2006; before that it was the Serb Democratic Party.

The presidency in RS is not ceremonial. The president is directly elected for a four-year term, while the top two candidates from the other two constituent peoples become vice presidents. It’s a design that guarantees ethnic representation and permanent friction. Presidents and Vice Presidents can come from completely opposing parties.

STATE LEVEL: THE PRESIDENCY AS AN INSTITUTIONAL ENIGMA

At the state level, the presidency of BiH has three members: one Bosniak and one Croat elected from the Federation and one Serb elected from Republika Srpska. Each serves a four-year term, with the chair rotating every eight months.

One issue has remained unresolved since the 2009 ruling of the European Court of Human Rights in the Sejdić and Finci v. Bosnia and Herzegovina case: citizens who do not identify as Bosniak, Croat, or Serb cannot run for the presidency. That is direct discrimination against “others"—and a clear violation of the European Convention on Human Rights. Seventeen years on, not a single word of that provision has been changed.

 

SCHMIDT’S AMENDMENTS: TECHNICAL, NOT POLITICAL

High Representative Christian Schmidt imposed amendments to the BiH Election Law in March 2024. The changes introduce biometric voter identification, greater transparency in voter registration, and the professionalization of polling boards.

His decision also mandates “election technologies”—scanners", video surveillance at polling stations, and electronic voter identification.

Republika Srpska does not recognize these changes. On April 19, 2024, RS adopted its own election law, establishing an entity-level election commission to oversee all electoral processes within the entity.

As of April 2026, the Central Election Commission of Bosnia and Herzegovina is still running public procurement procedures for biometric equipment and ballot scanners. Given the complexity—and the number of appeals—there is a very real chance these upgrades won’t be fully implemented by October.

 

CONCLUSION: A SYSTEM BUILT FOR STALEMATE

Bosnia and Herzegovina has an electoral system designed to prevent domination by any single ethnic group. In that sense, it partially works.

But it also does something else: it prevents the formation of a functional government without prolonged post-election negotiations—months long, sometimes stretching beyond a year.

In nearly three decades of working on elections in this region, I haven’t encountered a system that combines this many blocking measures at once. The only one that comes close is the Lebanese sectarian model—but even that doesn’t operate with this kind of vertically fractured authority across entity, cantonal, and state layers.

Which is why, after every election in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the same question comes up:

Who won?

The answer is always the same:

No one. Not enough.

To be continued: The Federation of BiH—who's competing for 98 seats in the House of Representatives and what that actually means for government formation.

 

BIH - THE MORNING AFTER:

A STRATEGIST'S FORECAST FOR WHAT HAPPENS WHEN BOSNIA'S OCTOBER 2026 VOTES ARE COUNTED

 

 

The votes from Bosnia and Herzegovina's October 4, 2026, elections will be counted in a single night. The government those votes produce will take at least a year to form, and there is a realistic probability it will not be fully formed before the end of 2027.

This is not pessimism. It is the documented pattern. After 2018, government formation at the state level took fourteen months. After 2022, it took over a year across multiple levels. The question for October 2026 is not whether the post-election period will be long. The question is whether it will be merely long — or whether it will be long and constitutionally contested in ways that have no established resolution mechanism.

The standard post-election analysis in BiH focuses on who won what seat and what the coalition math looks like. That analysis misses the point. In BiH, the post-election period is not a consequence of the vote — it is the main event. The campaign is the prologue. What follows the count is the actual contest.

 

 

 

PART I: THE STATE LEVEL — PARALYSIS WITH INSTITUTIONAL DECORATION

 

The BiH state Presidency and the Parliamentary Assembly will have new members by the evening of October 4. They will not have a functioning government for months. This is structural, not contingent.

The Presidency: Three Members, Zero Consensus

The three-member BiH Presidency — one Bosniak and one Croat elected from the Federation, one Serb elected from Republika Srpska — will almost certainly produce a configuration where at least two members hold opposed positions on the central questions of BiH's political future: the state's relationship with NATO, the pace and conditions of EU accession, and the scope of entity rights versus state authority.

The SNSD candidate will probably win the Serb seat. That is not a prediction — it is the structural outcome of twenty years of RS voter behavior, reinforced by the absence of unified opposition coordination at the entity level in the presidential race. The SNSD Presidency member will not cooperate with any accelerated EU integration agenda, will not support NATO membership, and will use the eight-month chair rotation as a blocking instrument every time their turn comes.

If, however, the opposition fields a unified candidate and the November 2025 momentum holds, an opposition victory in the Serb seat produces the most disruptive Presidency configuration in post-Dayton history. An opposition Serb member — one genuinely committed to EU accession benchmarks and willing to cooperate with the Bosniak and Croat members — would break SNSD's structural veto over state-level decision-making. The Presidency would no longer be reliably deadlocked. Laws touching on EU integration, security sector reform, and budget transfers that SNSD has blocked for years through their Presidency member would suddenly face a different arithmetic. SNSD's response would be to shift its blocking capacity entirely to the National Assembly of the RS and the RS government — refusing implementation of any state-level decisions it dislikes through entity-level non-compliance, exactly as it did between 2019 and 2022. An opposition Serb in the Presidency does not unlock BiH. It relocates the blockage from the Presidency to the entity level, where SNSD has more institutional tools and fewer international constraints.

The Bosniak seat contest between Denis Bećirović (Trojka) and the SDA candidate determines not who sits in the Presidency but which party defines the Bosniak negotiating position in subsequent coalition talks. Bećirović's re-election would give Trojka a mandate argument for leading state-level government formation. An SDA victory reshuffles every coalition calculus from Sarajevo to Brussels.

The Croat seat is the most structurally contested of the three. The candidates are HDZ BiH's nominee, DF's Slaven Kovačević, and Martin Raguž — the ex HDZ 1990 leader who ran in the 2014 elections and represents the third strand of Croat political identity in the Federation: neither the HDZ machine nor the supra-ethnic DF position, but a smaller nationalist Croat alternative. Raguž's presence fragments the non-HDZ Croat vote further. HDZ BiH's central argument — that only a candidate endorsed by the authentic Croat electorate, meaning HDZ's voter base, holds legitimate Croat representation — gains credibility with each additional candidate who splits the anti-HDZ side. With Kovačević and Raguž both in the race, the mathematical threshold for an HDZ win drops. HDZ will again challenge the legitimacy of any Croat seat winner they did not endorse — the same challenge they have made since 2006, never definitively resolved by any domestic court or international arbitration. The Presidency will begin its new term with a legitimacy dispute over at least one of its three members.

 

 

The Parliamentary Assembly: From Election Night to Government — Fourteen Months Minimum

The BiH House of Representatives has 42 members — 28 elected from the Federation, 14 from Republika Srpska. The House of Peoples has 15 members — five from each constituent people, selected by the entity parliaments. No law passes without both chambers. No budget passes without both chambers. No Council of Ministers is formed without both chambers.

The Council of Ministers — BiH's state-level executive — is formed by consensus among the three constituent peoples' representatives. Any formation that excludes SNSD requires finding a Serb partner willing to govern in coalition with parties that SNSD brands as anti-Serb. That partner pool is thin, unreliable, and subject to SNSD pressure through RS institutional instruments.

A Council of Ministers formed without SNSD participation is theoretically possible. It formed without SNSD from 2019 to 2022 through a combination of OHR pressure and PDP participation. That government achieved essentially nothing because RS institutions refused to cooperate with state-level decisions. A repeat of that configuration in 2026 produces the same outcome: a state government that exists on paper and is blocked in practice.

The realistic best-case scenario for state-level government formation is a negotiated arrangement involving HDZ BiH, Trojka or SDA (but not both as lead actors), and a Serb partner — either SNSD or a smaller Serb party willing to play that role. That negotiation requires resolving the Federation government first, because state-level coalition positions are determined by who controls the entity governments. The state waits for the entity. The entity waits for the cantons. The cantons wait for each other.

The International Community: Diminishing Leverage, Unchanged Script

The EU's carrot — accession candidate status, reform conditionality, funding — has lost significant persuasive power in a political environment where entity-level actors (particularly SNSD) have openly calculated that the benefits of EU-aligned reform are outweighed by the domestic political cost of appearing to submit to external pressure. OHR retains the Bonn Powers — the authority to impose legislation and remove officials — but Schmidt has used them selectively, and each use generates a legitimacy challenge from Banja Luka that further erodes the instrument's deterrent value.

The international community's post-election script is predictable: express concern about delays, issue statements about BiH's EU path, apply pressure on party leaders to form government, and if that fails within twelve months, consider OHR intervention. That script has played out in every post-election cycle since 2006. It has never produced a functional government faster than the parties themselves were willing to move.

 

 

 

PART II: THE FEDERATION — THE COALITION PARADOX

The Federation government formation process is the most consequential post-election variable in BiH — not because the Federation is more important than the other levels, but because every other coalition negotiation waits for it. Who governs the Federation determines who has leverage at the state level. Who has leverage at the state level determines whether there is a state government at all.

The HDZ Constant

One outcome in the Federation is not a prediction — it is arithmetic. HDZ BiH will be in the Federation government. The party controls enough of the Croat electorate, and the institutional mechanisms requiring Croat participation in government are robust enough, that any Federation government formed without HDZ is either illegitimate by HDZ's definition or mathematically impossible to sustain.

The open question is not whether HDZ governs. It is which Bosniak partner HDZ governs with — and on whose terms. That question determines whether the Federation government is a reform-adjacent coalition or a status-quo coalition, and the answer carries directly into state-level formation.

The Trojka Trap

Trojka enters the post-election period with a structural problem that no election result resolves. If Trojka wins enough seats to remain the largest Bosniak party, it faces the same choice it has faced since 2022: govern with HDZ and accept being the junior partner in a coalition that HDZ effectively controls through veto mechanisms, or refuse and hand government formation to SDA.

If SDA wins more seats than Trojka, the choice disappears. SDA forms the government with HDZ, and Trojka spends four years in opposition — which is, paradoxically, the cleanest political position Trojka can occupy heading into 2030. A period in opposition gives Trojka the one thing it currently lacks: a clear separation from the governing compromises of 2022-2026.

The scenario Trojka cannot survive is a repeat of 2022 — entering government with HDZ again, making the same reform promises, and delivering the same partial results. Four consecutive years of governed disappointment in the same coalition configuration is not a platform. It is a concession.

The SDA Calculation

SDA's post-election calculation is straightforward: if they win the Bosniak plurality, they govern. If they don't, they block. SDA has sufficient organizational depth — particularly in rural FBiH cantons — to make any Federation government they oppose ungovernable through cantonal-level obstruction, House of Peoples vital national interest invocations, and the steady pressure of a party that has governed BiH for most of its post-war history and knows every institutional lever in the system.

SDA's most dangerous post-election posture is not as a governing party. It is as a disciplined opposition with veto instruments and the institutional knowledge to deploy them. A Trojka-HDZ government with SDA in opposition is not a reform government. It is a government under permanent siege.

The Canton Bottleneck

Federation government formation cannot begin in earnest until cantonal governments are formed. The ten cantons do not form simultaneously — they form sequentially, as local negotiations conclude. Mixed cantons (Central Bosnia, Herzegovina-Neretva, Canton 10) are the last to form, because their ethnic composition makes every coalition decision a precedent-setting negotiation.

The historical pattern: cantonal governments in Bosniak-majority cantons form within two to three months. Mixed cantons take four to six months. The Federation government forms only after the cantonal picture is clear — typically six to nine months after the election. State-level government waits for the Federation. The minimum realistic timeline from October 4 to a functioning BiH Council of Ministers is twelve months. The realistic median is fifteen to eighteen months.

The OHR Backstop

Schmidt's willingness to use Bonn Powers to impose a Federation government — or at minimum to impose the legal framework for one — is the variable that compresses this timeline if it gets too long. OHR intervened in Federation government formation in 2011. The precedent exists. The threshold for intervention is not crossed by slow negotiations; it is crossed by the threat of technical government indefiniteness combined with EU accession conditionality pressure.

If Federation negotiations extend past twelve months without resolution, OHR intervention becomes probable — not certain. Schmidt will use it as a last resort, because each use of Bonn Powers generates an RS response (non-recognition, parallel institutional action, international lobbying) that makes the next use harder to justify. OHR is not a deus ex machina. It is a one-shot instrument that loses deterrent value each time it fires.

 

 

 

PART III: REPUBLIKA SRPSKA — THE MOST CONSEQUENTIAL UNCERTAINTY

The post-election period in Republika Srpska carries a variable that neither the Federation nor the state level contains: the possibility that the results themselves are contested, not just the coalition negotiations that follow them. SNSD has constructed — deliberately and in advance — the institutional and rhetorical infrastructure to reject an unfavorable result. This is not speculation. It is documented in the RS National Assembly's April 2024 entity election law and in Dodik's repeated public statements about the illegitimacy of CEC oversight.

If SNSD Wins: Consolidation Under Different Personnel

If SNSD wins the RS presidency and retains its National Assembly majority — the most probable outcome absent unified opposition coordination — the post-election period in RS looks superficially stable. Karan gets a full four-year term. SNSD retains control of the Assembly, the government, and the entity's institutional apparatus. Dodik continues to direct policy from outside formal office.

But SNSD's post-election position is weaker than its electoral result will suggest. The 8,000-vote margin in November 2025 showed that SNSD's voter mobilization ceiling is lower without Dodik as a candidate. A party that wins but with declining margins governs with declining authority. The RS government will face growing pressure from within its own coalition — smaller Serb parties that supported SNSD through Dodik's era will recalibrate their dependency once the patriarch is formally absent.

The RS government's central post-election challenge is economic, not political: RS's budget is structurally dependent on transfers from the BiH state level, and those transfers are increasingly conditioned on EU accession benchmarks that SNSD refuses to meet. The entity cannot fund its public sector commitments without state-level budget cooperation. SNSD can block state-level institutions indefinitely — but it cannot block the fiscal arithmetic.

If the Opposition Wins: Uncharted Constitutional Territory

An opposition victory in the RS presidential race — requiring unified coordination around a single candidate — produces a post-election situation for which Dayton provides no clear roadmap. The RS president would hold office without a governing majority in the National Assembly. The RS government (appointed by the president, confirmed by the Assembly) would be a hostage negotiation between a president with a democratic mandate and an Assembly controlled by the party he defeated.

SNSD's response to an opposition presidential victory would not be a graceful transition. The party controls RS public broadcasting, the entity police, the entity judiciary, and the bulk of RS public companies. An opposition president without Assembly majority cannot govern through those institutions — SNSD-aligned managers would slow-walk every directive, challenge every appointment, and invoke every procedural obstacle available.

The opposition's only path to functional governance in this scenario requires winning both the presidency and enough Assembly seats to form a coalition government — or winning the presidency with a margin large enough that defections from SNSD's smaller coalition partners become rational. Neither condition is guaranteed by a presidential victory alone. A split outcome is the most dangerous post-election configuration for RS institutional stability.

The Parallel Election Scenario: When the Process Itself Is Contested

The scenario with no precedent in post-Dayton BiH is the one SNSD has been engineering since April 2024: RS runs a parallel electoral process under its own entity election law, producing results that RS institutions recognize and CEC does not — or vice versa.

If RS conducts voting under its own law while CEC conducts the state-mandated process at the same polling stations, the result is two sets of results for the same election, each legitimate by one legal framework and illegitimate by the other. This is not a coalition negotiation problem. This is a constitutional crisis with no domestic resolution mechanism and no precedent for international resolution short of direct OHR imposition.

Schmidt's response to this scenario determines its trajectory. If OHR immediately invalidates the RS parallel process and imposes CEC authority, SNSD either backs down — as it has done before when facing credible enforcement — or escalates to open institutional defiance. Escalation to defiance produces a crisis that exceeds OHR's institutional capacity to resolve alone and requires direct EU and US engagement at a level neither has demonstrated willingness to provide in recent years.

The parallel election scenario is SNSD's nuclear option — a tool too destructive to use routinely, but credible enough as a threat to shape the pre-election environment. Whether Dodik actually deploys it depends on what the polls show by September. If SNSD's internal data shows a comfortable margin, the threat is sufficient and the parallel process unnecessary. If the data shows a close race, deployment becomes rational as a pre-emptive result-shaping instrument.

Dodik's Position: The Man Behind Every Outcome

Regardless of the election result, Dodik remains the most consequential actor in RS post-election politics. He is barred from office, not from power. His formal ban covers public office — it does not cover party leadership, political strategy, media access, or the patronage networks that constitute SNSD's actual governing infrastructure.

If SNSD wins, Dodik continues directing RS policy through Karan — as he has since August 2025 — with the added legitimacy of a full four-year mandate. If SNSD loses the presidency, Dodik becomes the opposition's existential problem: an RS ex-president who controls the entity's largest party and refuses to accept that a lost election means lost authority.

Post-election RS, in every scenario, is defined by one question: how long can a political system function when its most powerful actor is formally excluded from it but informally indispensable to it? The answer in October 2026 is: at least another four years. The structural rupture SNSD needs to lose — not just a presidential race, but the Assembly majority that makes SNSD's institutional control possible — requires an opposition coordination that has never materialized and a voter shift that no single election cycle has produced.

 

 

 

CONCLUSION: WHAT THE MORNING OF OCTOBER 5 ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE

On the morning of October 5, 2026, the results will be clear. The governments those results produce will not exist for months. The BiH state government will not form before the autumn of 2027 — and that is the optimistic timeline. The Federation will have a government before the state, but only after cantonal negotiations that extend well into 2027. Republika Srpska will have the fastest resolution, because its simpler electoral system and single-district Assembly produce clearer mandates — but that resolution will be either a wounded SNSD majority or an opposition presidency facing a hostile Assembly.

The conventional wisdom treats every BiH election as a potential turning point — the election where reform finally wins, where the ethnic veto mechanisms finally yield, where the international community finally runs out of patience and forces change. That conventional wisdom has been wrong after every election since 1996.

October 2026 is not a turning point. It is the latest iteration of a system performing exactly as designed — producing fragmented results, requiring extended coalition negotiations, and generating enough institutional uncertainty to give every actor a reason to delay. The system's genius, if it can be called that, is that it makes everyone a potential blocker and no one fully responsible for the block.

The one variable that could change this calculus is not electoral. It is the fiscal one. RS's structural budget dependency on state-level transfers, and the Federation's dependency on EU pre-accession funding, create a pressure point that pure political blocking cannot indefinitely resist. At some point, the cost of non-functionality exceeds the political benefit of the veto. BiH has not reached that point yet. Whether it reaches it before 2030 is the actual question the October 2026 elections leave unanswered.

 

 

 

The author is a political strategist with 25 years of experience in electoral campaigns in Serbia and internationally, including 14 years of extensive work on electoral processes in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

 

Kako se to stvarno radi: segmentacija birača

Kada kažete 'obraćamo se svima', u prevodu to znači: ne obraćate se nikome.

 

Postoje dve rečenice koje mi pokazuju da oni koji sede preko puta mene ne znaju mnogo o kampanji. Zanimljivo je da sam obe čuo od Afrike, preko Balkana i Evrope do Filipina. One su: ‘Mi smo specifični’ i na nju sam tokom svih ovih godina naučio da ne reagujem. Druga je samo malo ređa a ona glasi: ‘Mi se obraćamo svim građanima.’ E kod nje se retko suzdržim i moj odgovor je uvek isti: ’Znači ne obraćate se nikome.’

Postoji romantična predstava kod nekih političara da je biračko telo jedna velika grupa ljudi koji gledaju istu TV, čitaju iste portale, slušaju istu poruku, klimaju glavom u istom trenutku i izlaze na birališta vođeni istim motivom. 

Ta predstava je lepa ali u praksi potpuno netačna. 

U izbornoj kampanji ne postoji jedna ciljna grupa. Postoji penzioner koga brinu cene lekova, mlada majka koju brine upis u vrtić, i čovek od četrdeset pet godina koji je glasao za vas prošli put ali ove godine nije siguran jer niste ništa ispunili od onog što ste obećali. Eto, dao sam vam primer samo troje ljudi kojima ne možete reći istu rečenicu i očekivati isti rezultat.

Segmentacija birača je podela biračkog tela na grupe koje stvarno postoje. Ko su, gde su, šta ih pokreće, koliko ih ima, i najvažnije da li ih uopšte vredi ubeđivati da glasaju za vas. Onaj koji vas mrzi neće promeniti mišljenje ni posle deset poseta, a onog koji vas voli ne treba da ubeđujete, već da ga izvedete na biračko mesto GOTV kampanjom. Trošiti resurse na pogrešnu ciljnu grupu je najskuplja ali ujedno i najčešća greška u kampanji.

Kada ne uradite segmentaciju dešava se sledeće: poruka je toliko široka da ne ’gađa’ nikoga konkretno. Govorite o ’boljem životu za sve,’ a niko se u toj poruci ne prepoznaje, jer kada kažete ’svi’ to u praksi znači niko. Vaš protivnik u međuvremenu zna tačno kojih npr. osam hiljada glasova mu nedostaje, u kojim ulicama žive ti birači i šta žele da čuju. Vi delite letke na ulici i nadate se da će makar jedan završiti u pravim rukama. Za to vreme Vaš protivnik koristi call centar i tačno zna koga će pozvati na izborni dan.

Segmentacija nije marketinški trik vaših savetnika u kampanji. Ona pravi razliku između kampanje koja zna šta radi i kampanje koja ni dva dana posle izbora ne zna da li je prošla cenzus.

Preveo sa srpskog na emglesi ChatGpt

How It Really Works: Voter Segmentation

 Whenever someone says, “We’re speaking to everyone,” what they’re really saying is, “We’re speaking to no one.”

Two phrases immediately tell me the people sitting across the table don’t know much about campaigning. What’s interesting is that I’ve heard both of them everywhere—from Africa to the Balkans, across Europe, and all the way to the Philippines.

The first one is: “We’re unique.”

After all these years, I’ve learned not to react to that one.

The second is a little less common: “We’re speaking to all citizens.”

That one is harder to let slide. My response is always the same:

“So you’re speaking to nobody.”

Some politicians cling to a romantic vision of the electorate as one giant group of people who watch the same TV channels, read the same news sites, hear the same messages, nod their heads at the same moment, and ultimately vote for the same reasons.

It’s a nice idea.

It’s also completely wrong.

In a political campaign, there is no single target audience.

There’s the retiree worried about the rising cost of prescription drugs. There’s the young mother anxious about finding a spot in daycare. And there’s the forty-five-year-old voter who supported you last time but isn’t sure he’ll do it again because none of the promises you made were ever delivered.

That’s just three people—and you can’t say the same thing to all of them and expect the same result.

Voter segmentation means dividing the electorate into groups that actually exist. Who are they? Where do they live? What motivates them? How many of them are there? Most importantly, are they even worth trying to persuade?

Someone who genuinely dislikes you isn’t going to change their mind after ten campaign visits. Someone who already supports you doesn’t need persuasion—they need to be turned out on Election Day through an effective GOTV (Get Out The Vote) operation.

Spending resources on the wrong audience is one of the most expensive mistakes a campaign can make—and also one of the most common.

When you skip segmentation, the same thing always happens. Your message becomes so broad that it doesn’t resonate with anyone in particular. You talk about “a better life for everyone,” but nobody sees themselves in that promise. In practice, when you say “everyone,” you mean no one.

Meanwhile, your opponent knows exactly which eight thousand votes they still need. They know which neighborhoods those voters live in and exactly what issues matter to them.

You’re handing out flyers on street corners and hoping one eventually reaches the right person.

Your opponent is running a call center and already knows who will get a phone call on Election Day.

Segmentation isn’t some marketing gimmick invented by campaign consultants.

It’s the difference between a campaign that knows exactly what it’s doing and a campaign that’s still trying to figure out whether it cleared the electoral threshold two days after the votes have been counted.

 

Kako se to stvarno radi: War room

Naviknut da radim napolju i ja sam zamenio naziv Centralni izborni štab sa ’ozbiljnijim’ War room. Termin dolazi direktno iz vojne terminologije, jer se tako zovu prostorije u kojima su se donosile odluke od kojih je zavisila sudbina država tokom ratova.

Kaže legenda da je u kampanje tu kovanicu uveo Sten Grinberg, Klintonov pollster i to 1992. Kao što legenda kaže da je baš u toj kampanji Džejms Karvil, glavni strateg, napisao na tabli čuvenu rečenicu koja važi i danas: ’It’s all about economy. You stupid.’ No o temi ekonomije nekom drugom prilikom. 

Od tada, gotovo svako ko učestvuje na izborima centralni izborni štab naziva war room. Iskustvo mi govori da retko ko razume zašto je baš ovaj termin usvojen.

Open space soba. Na zidovima mnogo TV-a i svaki prikazuje različiti kanal. Na svakom radnom stolu laptop na kome se kuca nešto važno. Telefoni zvone. Neko viče brojeve iz najnovijeg istraživanja. Šef izbornog štaba stoji u sredini i sve kontroliše pogledom.

Tako war room izgleda ali u filmovima. U stvarnosti to izgleda mnogo drugačije.

Pre nego što i upotrebite reč war room morate imati odgovor na ova pitanja: ko o čemu odlučuje i za koliko vremena?

Kreiranje war rooma počinje imenovanjem njegovog šefa imajući stalno na pameti da je šef izbornog štaba ono što je u vojsci načelnik generalštaba. To nije počast koju partija/kandidat dodeljuje zaslužnom članu ili prijatelju. Nije nagrada za lojalnost, nije kompenzacija za prethodnu pobedu ili poraz, nije pozicija koja se dodaje uz ‘on je i inače deo našeg tima’. Kada se nešto loše desi u kampanji, a uvek se nešto loše desi, odgovornost je na njemu. Zbog toga je izbor prave osobe na to mesto možda najvažnija odluka cele kampanje. Važnija od slogana, važnija od mitinga i bilborda.

Loš šef štaba neće upropasti samo svoju reputaciju.

Lošim odlukama on će upropastiti celu kampanju. Zajedno sa sobom upropastiće i ljude koji su u nju uložili vreme, ugled i ime. Upropastiće stranku/pokret koja su možda imali istorijsku šansu. I svi će to shvatiti tek kad bude kasno. Najčešće kada se prebroje glasovi.

Jutarnji sastanak u war roomu nije neformalan i ne služi za razbuđivanje ekipe. Večernji sastanak nije debrifing uz kafu i prijateljsko ćaskanje. Oba su kratka, oba su praktična, oba imaju jednu temu: šta se promenilo od poslednjeg i šta zbog toga radimo drugačije.

Sve ostale teme su opstrukcija.

War room savršeno funkcioniše tek kada svaki član tima zna tačan odgovor na to koju odluku on može samostalno da donese, a za koju mora da pita one iznad sebe. Nema u kampanji ni d od demokratije. Nema konsenzusa. Nema plenumske atmosfere i rečenice ’čujmo sve glasove prisutnih pa ćemo odlučiti’. Speed is a king. Brzina reakcije u kampanji retko se meri u satima, mnogo češće moramo reagovati u minutima. Stav plenuma koji glasa kako da se odgovori na jutarnji napad u medijima stigne tačno na vreme i odličan je. Za juče.

Izborni štab koji radi dobro je nevidljiv. Kandidat se oseća sigurno, poruka je konzistentna, čitav tim zna šta radi.

Kada izborni štab radi loše svi to vide. Najčešće tek na kraju shvate, posle neuspešnih izbora, gde je bila greška.

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